The Slytherin Champion
by swatkins
Summary: The year is 1994 and anxious students line up to submit their names in hopes of being selected as their school's champion in the Triwizard Tournament. Meet Carina Malfoy, firstborn of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, who has just made her debut into wizarding high society. Her newest ambition? To win the Triwizard Tournament and prove that Slytherins are not what history claims. AU
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: It all belongs to J.K. Rowling, except what doesn't. Some liberties have been taken with the plot (hence the Alternate Universe label). Thank you for reading!**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Carina Malfoy delicately spooned soup into her mouth as she scanned the list of ingredients she would needs for her greatest endeavor yet, which she still needed to reveal to her parents. She'd already discussed the idea with Draco, of course, but Father might need more convincing if she were to become an Animagus.

She was mulling over where she would collect dew that hadn't been touched by a human foot in seven days, a swift kick from underneath the ornate table brought her out of her reverie.

"Ow!" she exclaimed, glaring at Draco. He nodded toward their father and she straightened up, turning her attention towards Lucius Malfoy, perhaps the most formidable figure she could imagine. He sat at the head of the table beside their mother, Narcissa, with perfect posture and a gaze of steel that bore into her as she realized he'd been speaking to her, but she hadn't been listening.

"I trust you have what you need for your debut tomorrow evening," he said, a hint of coolness at her obvious lack of attention.

"Yes," she replied, excitement bubbling up inside of her. She'd been looking forward to her debut into the elite society of the magical world ever since she was eleven years old. "My gown is prepared and I remember the lessons from my tutors. I'm more than ready."

Father gave her a satisfied nod and continued with his own meal. "Good. We want to make a good impression when you are presented, particularly to your suitors."

Carina cringed inwardly at the last word. Despite being one of the highest ranking pureblood families in the modern wizarding world, she'd learned during her time at Hogwarts that most families weren't quite so…traditional. Her best friend, Lyra, had balked at the idea of courtship when she'd first brought up her debut.

"_When will you be doing your debut?" Carina asked eagerly at the close of the school year._

"_Debut?" Lyra asked, snapping out of some daydream. "What do you mean?"_

"_Your coming-of-age debut," Carina laughed._

"_You mean my birthday party? I'll probably have it over the Christmas holiday. My birthday is later in the year, you know."_

"_Not a birthday party," Carina insisted. "I mean the event where you're introduced to society and you meet potential suitors…"_

"_Suitors?" Lyra giggled. "You're joking, right?"_

_Carina's smile dipped a little as they approached the edge of the lake to relax in the sun after exams. "Don't middle class families do courtships?"_

"_No, that's called dating." Lyra slipped off her shoes to wade in the shallows. "You know, when a boy who likes you asks you out to Hogsmeade or something like that. Courting is where your parents set you up with some guy you barely know and you pretend to like each other for the sake of looks."_

Carina didn't know much about dating, but the way Lyra had described courting sounded more accurate of her situation than she liked to admit.

"Do I have to have suitors?" she wondered.

"Of course, if you're to make a suitable match," Father replied. "You may not carry the Malfoy name after your marriage, but you will have the same responsibility as Draco to carry on a pure line."

Carina shifted uneasily in her chair. According to the family tree, she was related to most of the pureblooded wizarding families—which she was expected to marry into—in one way or another. According to Lyra, that wasn't normal either. Then again, she wasn't from one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight like the Malfoys. She didn't carry the same burden as Carina did.

Still, the subject of marriage was uncomfortable, and she was grateful when Draco picked up on her uneasiness and changed the topic.

"When are we leaving for the Quidditch World Cup?" he asked eagerly.

"Friday morning," Mother replied. "The morning of the match."

"Please tell me we're not taking the peacocks," Carina groaned. "They make so much noise!"

Lucius looked up with an expression akin to distress. "Of _course_ we're taking the peacocks. I don't trust the house elves to take care of them while we're away."

Carina rolled her eyes. The house elves were more than capable of taking care of the peacocks, all albino and all well-mannered, but they were a symbol of the Malfoy family and were most likely a way to display their wealth, prestige, and status in society. If anything, the house elves would be grateful to be rid of them for a few days.

"Now, we'll be sharing a box with the Minister for Magic for the duration of the match, so I expect the both of you to be on your best behavior," Lucius continued, changing the topic ever so slightly. "He has invited us to share it due to our fiscal support, and I intend to stay in his good graces. Carina."

Carina sat up a little straighter at her name. "Yes?"

"He will likely ask about your future. What do you intend to tell him?"

Carina's breath caught for a moment.

"Well, with the N.E.W.T.s approaching this year, I've been researching various career options and would like to learn more about a position in politics. The workings of the Ministry fascinate me," she recited, having rehearsed these words in her head over and over for interviews at her debut.

Narcissa looked up from her bowl questioningly. "You won't need to work, darling, if you marry well."

Irritation sparked in Carina, but she schooled her features into an amicable expression. "Perhaps, but I'd like to keep a sharp mind to advise him well."

Her mother nodded in acceptance and continued to eat. Lucius, on the other hand, was considering the idea carefully.

"It would be wise to have a Malfoy in the government," he concluded. "But you will have to earn high marks on your exams."

"I'm at the top of my class, Father," Carina reminded him. "The N.E.W.T.s won't be a problem at all. In fact, I've been considering developing my Transfiguration skills one step further."

"How so?"

Carina took a steadying breath and met her father's inquisitive gaze. "I'd like to become an Animagus."

The clinking of spoons stilled as silence descended on the table. Carina's stomach clenched like a fist and she hurried onward.

"I've studied out the process, both legal and magical, and I've planned it out in my head. I could begin the process early in the spring before exams when dew is fresh and untouched, before students are too eager to be outdoors and before pressure mounts for the N.E.W.T.s. Depending on thunderstorms, I could be a full-fledged, registered Animagus before exams even start."

"It's a rather dangerous process, as I understand it," Narcissa mulled, exchanging a glance with her husband. "Not to mention inconvenient and time-consuming."

"But I could manage. I'm already at the top of my class, and I've been studying all summer in preparation for my final year," Carina reasoned. "The N.E.W.T.s will be a breeze."

"It's highly unpredictable," Lucius added. "The smallest mistake and you could end up disfigured, dead, or worse. In any case, I can't see what advantage you could gain from this, seeing as you don't know what animal you'll transform into."

"That's the thing," Carina countered quickly. "In most cases, the Animagus form is usually the same as one's Patronus. Mine is a fox, so it's most likely that my Animagus form will be the same."

"Yeah, and then you could sneak around eating mice," Draco snickered, and she shot him a glare. He simply shrugged with an impish, albeit well-meaning smile and returned to his soup.

"Actually, the fox is a common enough animal that, if I so desired, I could gather information that could aid me in my career as a politician." She hoped appealing to her father's drive for power might sway him in favor of her cause, but to her disappointment, he shook his head.

"I'm afraid you simply won't have the time," he told her.

"But I've got it all worked out, even with my classes—"

"You'll have more to concern yourself with than your classes and exams this year," Lucius continued, cutting her off as he buttered a slice of bread. "I have recently discovered that the Ministry of Magic has been working feverishly these past months in order to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament, to be hosted at Hogwarts this year and attended, of course, by contestants from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang."

Carina stared, dumbstruck at such news that had quashed whatever she'd been about to argue a moment before. The Triwizard Tournament was a contest between the three greatest wizarding institutions in Europe, where each selected a champion who participated in three tasks. The winner laid claim to glory, honor, and riches—should they survive, of course. The last she knew, it had been deemed too dangerous after numerous fatalities, and discontinued more than two hundred years ago.

"As such, you will have a unique opportunity to live among and build connections with elite students, which I expect you to take advantage of," Lucius continued.

"Reinstated? Excellent. How are the champions chosen?" Draco asked eagerly.

"The champions are chosen by an impartial judge, whose identity I am not privy to," Lucius replied, somewhat miffed. Whether at Draco or at his lack of information, Carina couldn't tell. "But you will not be entering."

"Why not?" he demanded.

"Because, due to the, ah, _perilous_ nature of the tournament, all applicants must be of age to submit their names. Even so, Carina will not be entering either."

Carina, who had already begun rearranging her schedule in her mind to include both foreign connections and becoming an Animagus, lurched back to the present.

"What? Why not?"

Lucius gave her a disapproving look. "Did I stutter? Even if safeguards and precautions have been taken, this tournament is needlessly dangerous and I'll not have you endangered for glory and riches already exceeded by your birthright. And close your mouth, you are not a fish."

Carina snapped her gaping mouth shut, embarrassed by her slip in manners. "I don't understand, Father. I've been at the top of my class ever since I started at Hogwarts, and I'm more than capable of holding my own in a duel. I can handle the press almost as well as you and Mother, and I can make more ties as a Hogwarts champion."

Lucius considered the points she'd made, but his frown told her that he wasn't convinced. She changed tactics.

"Father, even if I do enter, dozens of my classmates will be entering too. It's not likely that I'll be chosen. But I can try, and that might give me an opportunity to speak with foreign students before the tournament even begins."

Lucius tilted his head to the side, thinking, then nodded. "Very well. You may enter as long as you keep up with your studies." He then turned his attention to Draco. "I trust you've been keeping up with your studies also?"

Her brother straightened confidently, momentarily forgetting to sulk about the tournament. "Of course. My homework has been finished for weeks now, and I've been studying in the evenings."

"As you should. As I understand it, you've still yet to rise to the top of your class," Lucius said pointedly. Carina glanced at her bristling brother as he tightened his grip on the spoon.

"It's not my fault," he grumbled.

"Do not mumble, Draco," Narcissa instructed.

"I said it's not my fault," he repeated grumpily. "I'm doing everything I can."

"And yet you're still passed up by a silly Mudblood girl," Lucius countered sharply. Carina raised an eyebrow in surprise. Draco had failed to clue her in on that little detail.

"She's a stubborn, insufferable know-it-all," Draco argued. "She practically lives in the library and constantly walks around with her nose glued to a book."

"You have the advantage of being born in our world, tutored by the finest witches and wizards money can buy, and yet over three years of schooling she still exceeds you in academics." Their father's voice had lowered dangerously, and Draco dropped his gaze to his soup. "I will instruct your tutors to extend your study times in the evenings, and I expect you to maintain these habits when you return to school."

"Yes, Father," Draco mumbled, slouching in his seat. Carina took pity and changed the subject.

"Mother, I'd like to invite Lyra over tomorrow morning to prepare for my debut," she said.

Narcissa raised her eyebrows. "What more needs to be prepared? We've instructed the house elves already on what needs to be done."

Carina offered a smile. "I'll be helping her, Mother. She feels a little bit rusty on the steps we learned last summer, and I'd like to help her practice."

Her parents exchanged a look. "I don't know that it's appropriate to have somebody of her station at your debut, darling," Narcissa said. Carina wasn't deterred.

"Mother, she's one of my closest friends, and a pureblood. Besides, I can't dance with all of the boys at once," she laughed lightly.

"What will she be wearing?" Narcissa asked, and Carina thought she heard a small groan from Draco.

"She found something fitting for the occasion last week in Italy," Carina assured her. "She'll blend well with our guests."

"I suppose as long as she can carry civil conversation, she will be welcome," Narcissa relented. Carina beamed.

"Thank you, Mother."

* * *

The rising moon found Carina in her room later that evening, bent low over a leather-bound journal and a book that still carried the aroma of a bookshop. Draco knocked, sauntered in when she called back, and settled himself lazily on her downy comforter.

"Read many more of those books and you won't even have to cast a spell to become an Animagus," he teased. Carina rolled her eyes, though he couldn't see her.

"It's not just a spell. There's a potion that I have to make, and this book goes more in depth about the details," she explained. She scratched another note in the journal, then laid down her quill and stretched her stiff fingers and neck.

Draco glanced at the gown peeking out of her wardrobe, then at the notes meticulously arranged on one wall—none of which actually detailed plans for the following evening when she would wear the gown.

"I thought you'd be more interested in planning your debut," he said.

Carina sighed and turned in her chair to face him more completely. "There's not much left for me to do," she admitted. "Mother has practically planned everything down to the last detail, except for how I'm going to look, and I figured that part out as soon as the dress was finished."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Hasn't that thing been there since June?"

"Yes, and I've been dreaming about this debut since I knew what it was," she replied matter-of-factly.

Draco's eyes flicked skyward.

"Keep rolling your eyes," Carina deadpanned. "You might find some brains back there."

Draco glared at her, and the corners of her lips betrayed a smile.

"You're insufferable," he complained.

Carina snickered. "Isn't that what you called the girl who's beating you in classes? Honestly, Draco, you'll have to be a bit more creative with your insults."

Draco gritted his teeth, and Carina saw that she'd struck a nerve. "It's not like I'm not trying," he muttered.

Carina glanced down at a small, inked tattoo of a dragon sulking on her wrist. She and Draco had gotten the tattoos just after the beginning of her fifth year—his second—during the Chamber of Secrets crisis.

"_This way we'll always know if one of us is in danger," Carina said, watching the ship rise and fall on her brother's skin. He stared at it, wide-eyed._

"_We're connected," he marveled. Carina smiled._

"_And we always will be," she replied. "Promise."_

"_What's yours look like?"_

_Carina lifted her sleeve to show him the dragon exploring the crease of her arm. "It's your constellation. It shows me exactly how you're feeling, and yours will show you exactly what I'm feeling."_

Carina pulled herself from the memory as she watched the dragon. It reflected her brother's mood perfectly, and she was rather proud by that bit of magic.

"Sounds like she's only as good as she is because she's got nothing better to do," she replied airily. "I mean, we've both got Quidditch practice, and that takes up a fair amount of time. She probably doesn't have any friends."

"She's got Potter and Weasley, though they're hardly quality friends," Draco scoffed, his tension easing the slightest bit.

"You're really bothered by it, aren't you?" she asked quietly as Draco picked at a string on her comforter.

Draco clenched his teeth, then spoke dejectedly. "I'm worried that Father's right, and that I'm not good enough to beat a stupid Mudblood." Carina refrained from pointing out that she couldn't be that stupid if she was consistently at the top of their class. "Did you know she was taking practically twice as many classes as anybody else last year? People would swear she was in three classes at once and had never missed any. How the hell am I supposed to beat that?" he burst, frustration evident.

Carina considered what he'd said. "She had to be using a Time Turner. She'd probably be exhausted…" she mused. Draco shot another glare at her, and she shrugged, a bad habit that she'd picked up from Lyra. "I'm just saying, you have to admire her dedication."

Draco flopped onto her bed, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Great. Thanks Carina. You're a _big_ help."

Carina sighed. "She's not worth thinking about, Draco. I mean, come on—like you said, she's a Mudblood. She'll never really belong in our world, so she doesn't matter."

Her brother let his hands drop as he stared up at the ceiling. "I just want Father to be proud of me. As long as she's ahead of me, I'll always be second-best."

Carina rolled her eyes, strode over to the bed, and swatted him on the leg. Draco yelped and jerked away.

"What was that for?" he demanded.

"Quit wallowing and grab your broom," Carina told him.

"What?"

"I said grab your broom. Let's go play night Quidditch. I'll bet Granger's rubbish at that."

Draco blinked, then a smile creeped over his face. "Yeah, she's been pretty bad with a broom since first year."

"Then let's get you back in shape so we can crush Gryffindor in Quidditch this year," Carina said. "I'm ready for a break from studying anyway, and I expect you to be the best seeker this school has ever seen. Even better than Harry Potter."

Draco grinned at the thought and strutted out of the room. Carina glanced at her Animagus notes, then strode away to fetch her own Nimbus 2001. She could worry about the rest after her debut.

* * *

**Author's Note: Hello, dear readers, and welcome to my first published fan-fiction! This has been in the works for about three years now and I've finally taken the leap to publish it.**

**The concept for this story was published by multiple posts on tumblr, the users of which I will credit as each idea develops in the story. I deeply appreciate you taking the time to click on this, and hope you will leave me your thoughts and feelings as the story progresses, should you choose to pursue it with me.**

**Without further ado, on to Chapter 2!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Carina met Lyra Greyson in the foyer early the next morning, just after breakfast had been cleared away. She had pinned back a portion of her raven-black hair and the rest fell in gentle curls down her back. The taller girl wrapped Carina in a tight hug, laughing.

"Carina!"

"Hi, Lyra," Carina giggled. "Gosh, it feels like I haven't seen you all summer!"

Lyra flipped a loose curl over her shoulder, blue eyes sparkling with the brightness of her grin. "Well, we did just get home from Italy. You would have loved it there!"

Carina returned her best friend's smile. "You look stunning, Lyra. Did you bring the dress? I'd love to see it on you!"

Lyra gestured to one of the chairs in the foyer, where a garment bag had been draped. The girls eagerly took it upstairs to Carina's bedroom, and when Lyra pulled it from the garment bag and held it to her chest, Carina gasped.

The silky, dusty rose fabric spilled down from a high neckline, pooling at the bottom with a smattering of white gemstones that reminded Carina of stars. She touched the sheer, fluttering sleeves and the cinched waist, marveling at the texture.

"Lyr, it's gorgeous," she breathed. "Oh, go on, try it on!"

Lyra smiled shyly, stepping behind the screen in the corner of the room. When she emerged, Carina's smile broadened. The gown hugged Lyra's curves in all the right places, draping elegantly down from her waist to kiss the floor as the sleeves perched delicately on her shoulders. The rosy hue complemented her darker skin perfectly, enhancing her Indian heritage.

"What do you think?" Lyra asked nervously.

"I think I'll have to keep my eye on you tonight," Carina teased. "All of my suitors will be too distracted by you to notice me!"

Lyra's cheeks flushed slightly at the comment and she ducked her head.

"No," Carina reprimanded, stepping forward and lifting her friend's chin high with one finger. "You are beautiful and you will own it tonight."

"Whose debut is this supposed to be?" Lyra challenged. "I wasn't even supposed to be invited, remember?"

"Lyr, I can't have my debut if you're not there," Carina said seriously. "And if you're coming, then we have to make sure you meet my mother's standards, starting with the gown."

Lyra's eyes widened in panic. "Oh no! Did I overdo it?"

Carina shook her head quickly. "No, you're fine. It's elegant and eye-catching, but not too loud."

Lyra's eyes brightened excitedly. "Oh! I forgot to show you the best part!" She twirled, and suddenly Carina's bedroom gleamed with dozens of hues in every shade. She shielded her eyes against the sudden onslaught of light, and Lyra stopped spinning.

"Don't you love it?" she exclaimed. "It lights up when I get excited it."

"Ah, it's… very bright," Carina agreed, blinking away spots of color in her vision. As much as she adored her friend, her eccentricities tended to show at terribly inopportune moments. "Is there a way to keep it from blinding you?"

Lyra giggled. "Sorry, the lights were harder to see in the sunlight down in Italy, so they used a stronger charm. I should be able to tone it down a bit by tonight."

"That would be good," Carina said. "Now, have you danced in that dress yet?"

Immediately Lyra's smile faded. She fidgeted with the fabric.

"Well… not yet…"

Carina smiled knowingly and picked up a small bell from her side table. It emitted a light tinkling as she rang it, and a house elf appeared with a loud _crack!_

"Yes, miss?" the pitiful thing asked tentatively.

"Fetch my brother, will you Lina?" she ordered. "Tell him to meet us down in the ballroom."

"Please," Lyra interjected meaningfully.

"Please," Carina echoed with a small smile.

"Yes, miss!" The bat-eared elf bowed quickly and disapparated with another _crack!_

Carina grabbed a pair of heels and led her friend downstairs into the marble-floored room, decorated with greens and silvers in preparation for her debut. Draco was already waiting, and he appraised Lyra.

"Not bad," he commented, then turned to Carina. "What do you want?"

"Lyra hasn't danced in her dress yet, and she needs to brush up on her skills," Carina explained tersely. "I'd like you to be her partner."

Draco grimaced. "I thought I didn't have to dance until tonight."

Carina laughed. "Oh, come on, Draco. It'll just be for a few minutes until Lyra feels comfortable in her dress."

"Why do I have to do it?" he complained.

"Because you're my brother, and you wouldn't want my debut to be marred by poor dancing, would you?" she implored sweetly, squeezing her friend's arm reassuringly in response to her friend's questioning, sidelong glance.

Draco sighed heavily. "Fine. But only because it's your debut."

Carina nodded her thanks and turned on the radio hidden in a corner, handing off the heels to Lyra. She tuned the radio carefully until she came upon a station playing an easy waltzing melody. Satisfied, she returned her focus to Lyra and Draco.

They spent the morning reviewing the basics of various dances with Lyra, then instructed her in a few of the more complicated steps. To his credit, Draco kept his grumblings to a minimum, and Lyra caught on quickly. From time to time, Carina would step in to demonstrate with Draco, and they glided easily across the ballroom floor.

By the time lunchtime rolled around, Lyra had begun to make up ridiculous steps of her own, and Draco threw up his hands in frustration. Carina shut off the radio, declaring their practice over, and Draco made a swift exit.

"You're doing well," Carina commended her as they climbed the stairs back to her room.

"Thanks," Lyra replied, the borrowed heels swinging from her fingertips. "I didn't realize your brother danced."

"Our parents made us learn as soon as we could walk," Carina replied. "Draco and I used to have to practice a couple of hours a day."

"Isn't it weird dancing with your brother?"

"A bit," Carina admitted. "There used to be a couple of other kids that our instructors would teach too, so we had them as partners rather than each other." She shrugged. "Since then Draco's been my only partner when we practice. It's awkward, but it's good practice for when we have to dance with awkward partners."

Lyra's nose wrinkled. "I hope there's not much of that for me tonight."

"Awkward dances?" Carina pondered the thought. "Oh, I'm sure there will be plenty. There always are."

Lyra sighed as they reached the bedroom, hesitating at the door. "Carina, can I ask you something?"

Carina cocked her head to the side, brows drawn together. "Of course."

"Do you really think my dancing is poor?" Lyra's voice was quiet, her fingers fidgeting with the straps of the heels.

"What? I just told you that you're doing well."

"When you were talking to Draco, you said you didn't want your debut marred by poor dancing," Lyra reminded her reproachfully.

Carina's lips twisted to the side uncomfortably. "Lyr, I was only saying that to get him to help you brush up your skills. You're not a poor dancer."

Lyra sighed and lifted her shoulders. "I know this is probably a poor time to mention this, but—" she hesitated, seeming to choose her words carefully. "Look, I know I'm from a lower class than you—and we've been friends since our first year at Hogwarts—I just—" She paused and shook her head to gather her thoughts. Then she straightened her back and lifted her chin "What I mean to say is, I'm from a lower class, but that doesn't mean I'm inferior."

Carina blinked in surprise. "Lyra, I've never thought of you as—"

"Carina," Lyra interrupted, not unkindly. "You know that's not quite true. When we first became friends, you were so obsessed about status. We used to fight all the time, remember?"

Carina glanced away, trying to clamp down on the shame that rose in her chest at the thought. "I remember," she replied evenly.

Lyra waited to see if Carina would continue, but she didn't. "You don't mean to put other people down—being proud of your status is how you were raised—but a lot of other people see little reminders like that as direct jabs at them. I guess I'm asking you to be more mindful of the things you say." Her lips quirked up in a smile and she stepped forward to put a hand on Carina's shoulder. "Especially if you're looking to be a politician."

Carina met her friend's gaze and sighed. "You're… right." She shook her head, then forced a smile. "That's why I'm going to owl you every day as one of my advisors."

Lyra laughed and rolled her eyes, letting her hand drop. Carina's smile relaxed into something more genuine, and she let out a breath.

"You are so spoiled," Lyra teased, poking her ribs. Carina danced away from a second jab, and conversation drifted to plans for the future as the minutes ticked down toward her debut.

Lyra left just after lunch, leaving Carina to her thoughts and preparation with a promise that she would return in a few hours' time. Carina had a bath drawn, and as she soaked, she thought over their earlier conversation. It was true that she had been terribly fixated on status during her first year at Hogwarts, and that she and Lyra had butted heads frequently during those first months.

Then, upon becoming stuck on a particularly tricky Charms assignment, Lyra had selflessly stepped in to lend a hand. A small smile rose to Carina's lips as she recalled the way she had resisted the odd girl's help at first, then broken down as the night wore on. It had been tense, but fatigue wore down her defenses and by dawn they were talking easily, giggling about accidental magic from their respective early childhoods. The assignment lay nearly finished and forgotten in the common room when they fell asleep on the couches, very nearly missing breakfast a couple of hours later.

After that first barrier had been breached, Carina and Lyra became fast friends. Carina had learned so much about Lyra, who grew up in the lower middle class of Wizarding society, and so much about her world that she didn't realize she hadn't known. She'd barraged Lyra with questions, and her friend had teased that perhaps she should have been put in Ravenclaw instead.

Carina vaguely wondered if Lyra might deign to be her paid assistant after they graduated, then pushed the thought to the side as she stepped out of the tub to dry off. There would be plenty of time later to discuss it with her. For now, her debut fast approached and she needed to be ready.

* * *

Carina smoothed her skirt for the fourth time as her mother delicately plaited a section of hair and worked the rest into an elegant twist at the nape of her neck. Narcissa hadn't trusted the house-elves to do it, and Carina treasured the feeling of her mother's fingers working through her hair. She closed her eyes to enjoy the sensation.

"There," Narcissa declared quietly, resting her fingers on her daughter's shoulders. Carina opened her eyes and beamed at her mother in the mirror as she turned her head carefully from side to side. "It's beautiful, Mother. Thank you."

Narcissa answered with a proud, regal smile of her own. "You will be even more beautiful than I was at my debut."

Carina turned in her chair to look at her mother. "I doubt that," she admitted. "You've always been beautiful." She furrowed her brow as a question occurred to her. "Where did you learn to do this?"

Narcissa rested a gentle hand on her cheek. "My sisters and I used to braid one another's hair in the winter when there was little else to occupy our minds." A faraway look passed over her features, then she shook herself from whatever reverie she'd visited and straightened her posture. "It's nearly time. Your father and I will be waiting downstairs for you."

Carina nodded and rose gracefully. Mother and daughter embraced for a moment, then Narcissa swept quietly from the room in her dark, emerald gown. Carina gave herself a once over in the mirror standing resolutely before her. Tonight she wore a powder blue gown that accented the blond of her hair and her cool complexion. The satin wrapped around her waist, flowing to the floor where it faded to silver, matching her heels, the gem-sprinkled bodice, and the delicate, diamond necklace her mother had gifted her. She eyed the off-the-shoulder sleeves and sweetheart neckline for a moment, touched up her eyeliner, and studied the inked dragon for a moment.

With a little flick of her wand, she sent the dragon scuttling up her arm, over her shoulder, and down her back to rest in the center of her spine, beneath the fabric. No need for her suitors to ask questions about it; the dragon was a secret between Carina and Draco alone.

She strode from the room and down to where her parents and brother awaited her. Carina listened for a moment to the soft murmurs emanating from behind the doors to the largest dining room, then glanced at her family. Draco smirked at her, glancing down at the hem of her dress.

"They missed a spot," he told her, nodding at the silver. "I thought you paid them to dye all of the fabric blue."

Carina rolled her eyes. "Now why would I do a dull thing like that?"

Draco opened his mouth to retort, but Narcissa touched his shoulder lightly to quiet him.

"You look radiant," she told Carina proudly. Lucius nodded his approval, eyes lighting for a moment on her forearm before flicking back to her face. Carina schooled her features into cool, controlled mask. He'd suspected the tattoos before, but had never managed to pin them down as yet. Carina intended to keep it that way.

"Come," he finally said simply. "I believe we're ready." Lucius offered his arm to Narcissa, to lightly rested her hand in the crook of his elbow. Carina and Draco walked side by side as the doors opened, revealing their family to the host of witches and wizards who had risen beside their seats at the long table. Lucius paused in the doorway, then led his family to their seats. Lucius, of course, stood at the head of the table. Narcissa waited at his right, Carina to his left, and Draco beside his sister.

"It is a pleasure to welcome you, our distinguished guests, to our home on this joyous occasion," he announced, his eyes sweeping over the guests from other high-born houses—including suitors, Carina noted—the Ministry, and other lucrative businessmen. "Please, let us dine and then we will formally introduce my lovely daughter into society." As he and his family sat, the other guests followed.

The house elves had been well trained to serve the guests without being seen, and at her father's words, small dishes of crisp, green salad bloomed into existence from where they had been prepared in the kitchens. Once finished with their appetizers, the used plates were Banished away.

Soon their plates filled with roast duck, scalloped potatoes, steamed vegetables, and a small cup of fresh fruit on the side. Fine wines were offered to those of age, though Carina opted instead for a sweet, dark juice that she'd grown so fond of over the summer. She preferred not to indulge herself in alcohol, opting to keep her senses unhindered during her debut. Drunken behavior was hardly trustworthy, she thought as she sipped her drink delicately.

Conversation at the table varied from topic to topic, and before long a dessert course was served. It was a sort of meringue wrapped in a thin, sugar shell that seemed to hiss as their spoons broke through to the delicacy within.

Once dinner finished, Lucius invited his guests to make their way to the ballroom, where yet more of their less distinguished guests waited. Despite her pleas, Carina had not convinced her parents to allow Lyra to attend the meal itself, so she would see her friend once they made it inside.

This time, Draco entered the ballroom with the other guests, while Lucius, Narcissa, and Carina lingered behind. Once Narcissa had glanced over her daughter, tucked a stray pin back into place in her hair, and nodded her approval, Lucius flicked his wand and the doors opened. Carina waited just behind her parents, shielded momentarily from where the guests and the press waited eagerly. Applause rose politely throughout the room upon entrance, and Lucius waited a moment for it to subside before speaking.

"Thank you," he said, his voice filling the space as the cameras flashed, "for joining my wife, Narcissa, and myself in celebrating our daughter's coming of age."

Another light smattering of applause echoed his words, then he continued.

"She has proven herself to be determined, strong, and beautiful, and has brought much honor to our family in her performance at school. It is my honor to present to you my firstborn—"

Carina steeled herself with a breath, stilled her trembling hands, and lifted her chin proudly.

"—Carina Rosalind Malfoy." Lucius and Narcissa stepped to the side, the former sweeping is arm toward her as she moved into the room. The refined, poised smile she'd practiced so many times with her mother rose to her lips reflexively as the guests applauded—louder than before, she was pleased to realize—and the cameras flashed.

Carina's eyes scanned the crowd, landing upon a small knot of her peers just off to her right behind the press. Her own smile widened the tiniest bit at Lyra's unbridled grin and her brother's small, proud smile. Eager as she was to push through the press straight to her greatest supporters, she held back as was her role.

A few seconds later, she turned to her father, who offered her his arm and led her to the center of the ballroom. An orchestra on a low, designated platform began a waltz, and Lucius led her through her first dance as part of high society.

"You have done very well so far," he told her quietly, lips barely moving. Their eyes didn't meet, but Carina smiled nonetheless. "Many reporters will likely press in on you. Do not let them crowd you or push you to answer questions. Malfoys will answer in our own time."

"I thought I might dance with a few of my suitors first before I answered any questions," she murmured back, matching his hushed tone. Lucius dipped his head the tiniest bit in approval.

"That would be appropriate," he agreed.

When the dance ended, Carina dipped in a low, respectful curtsy to her father. She turned her back deliberately on the reporters and found herself face to face with one such suitor, a handsome young man with dark hair.

"Might I offer you a dance?" he asked, bowing lightly to her.

Carina nodded demurely and offered a gracious smile. "You may."

The young man must have been a year or more her senior, and he made idle conversation as they danced. After a moment Carina recognized him vaguely from Hogwarts and linked the face to the name Erak Duncan. He'd been a Ravenclaw, she remembered.

When Erak relinquished her hand with a gentle kiss pressed to her knuckles, she curtsied low again and stood. Almost immediately another gentleman stepped into his place, and so it went for three more dances. Two of them seemed to feel the need to prove themselves worth her time by reminding her—more than once, in one case—which of the Sacred Twenty-Eight they hailed from. Carina found it rather annoying, actually.

The third was no better, a man four years older who seemed to think her interest might be piqued by legislation in the Ministry—which, she reasoned, it might have. Only, the legislation up for debate was something to do with cauldron thickness, and the logistics of it very nearly bored her to tears. She thanked the stars above—and, silently, the orchestra—when the dance finally ended. She curtsied to the man and glanced over to where Draco was deep in conversation with his best mate, Blaise Zabini.

Pursing her lips slightly, she scanned the room for Lyra, and found her dancing with Erak Duncan, laughing lightly at something he'd said. Carina smiled to herself, grateful that Lyra wasn't left on the fringes of the celebration while she, Carina, danced the night away. Lyra caught her eye, smiled a bit wider over Erak's shoulder when Carina winked, and turned back to him.

She turned at a gentle touch at her elbow, lifting her gaze to a kind face beneath honey-brown hair. Her heart lurched and she barely halted the intake of breath—but her body settled back into its regular rhythm when she found that no, she didn't recognize this face. Her heart tugged in disappointment as she absently accepted his hand and allowed herself to be drawn into another dance.

When this fifth dance ended, she quickly made her way through the guests, pausing here and there to exchange greetings with a few of her father's friends. She skillfully avoided the reporters and paused for a refreshment. Lyra found her not long after as she sipped her drink.

"Tired already?" she teased lightly, accepting a glass from a tray carried by a passing house elf.

Carina only barely managed not to shrug at the question. "Not tired, exactly," she replied slowly. "That last dance was…" Lyra raised an eyebrow as her friend trailed off.

"You mean the guy you blushed at?" she asked. Carina's head snapped up as her gaze locked with Lyra's in mortification.

"What?" she hissed, eyes wide. Lyra grinned.

"Kidding," she snickered. "But your cheeks are a little bit pink. Did he catch your eye?"

"Not in the way you're thinking." Carina took a moment to calm her galloping heart. "He just looked so much like…"

Lyra's eyes brightened in sudden understanding and mirth. "Ah, I see. You still fancy Ced—"

"There you are, Miss Malfoy," a high, obnoxious voice trilled. Carina and Lyra cringed a little as Rita Skeeter came into view, her devious Quick Quotes Quill at the ready. "I was hoping I'd get a moment to chat with you." Carina lowered her glass and regarded Rita Skeeter carefully. She exchanged a quick glance with Lyra, who smiled broadly and stepped toward the reporter.

"Miss Skeeter! How very lovely to meet you," she gushed loudly. Rita started, not having noticed Lyra beside her quarry, but smiled lavishly.

"Oh yes, it is, isn't it? Are you a fan?" she replied.

"Am I ever!" Lyra smiled. "I do love your satire pieces, especially that one you wrote last week about the Radagast scandal."

Rita's grin dropped from her face for a moment, then she replied, "I assure you, my dear, that was all too true!"

Lyra gave a high-pitched giggle. "Oh, you are so witty, Miss Skeeter! Mr. Radagast and my aunt—his 'mistress'—laughed so hard about it that they couldn't resist sharing it with the rest of the family. My, Miss Skeeter, you bring such joy to our table when we receive the _Prophet_ over breakfast!"

Rita's face hardened into a sour expression, and it took all of Carina's strength not to laugh outright. She afforded herself a small smile at Lyra's act, sipping demurely at this bit of personal entertainment. The exchange continued as Lyra praised Rita's gossip column as a satire column, and Rita tried and failed to convince her otherwise. Eventually Rita huffed and stalked off, leaving behind the story she'd come to get from Carina. The girls giggled in a very unladylike manner as she went, then Carina schooled her features back into the refined mask she was supposed to be wearing for the event.

Lyra lifted her eyebrows. "It's really eerie sometimes how you can do that, you know."

"Do what?"

Lyra shrugged. "Put on your 'society face' in the blink of an eye." She gestured lightly with one hand at Carina's regal posture and careful expression, broken only by her lips quirking upward in a smile.

"My _society face?"_ she laughed. "That's certainly one I haven't heard for it before."

Lyra sighed in mock exasperation, but upon seeing Narcissa approaching them, smoothed over her own facial features. She curtsied politely.

"Good evening, Mrs. Malfoy," she offered steadily.

Narcissa nodded to her, then turned to Carina. "Your father would like to speak with you," she told her daughter. Carina nodded her assent and lowered her glass.

"Enjoy the party," she said lightly to Lyra, casting a regretful smile over her shoulder. Lyra offered her a little wave of encouragement as Carina and Narcissa worked their way through to where Lucius chatted idly with the Minister.

"Ah, yes, the lady of the hour!" Fudge exclaimed, offering his hand to her. "You are absolutely radiant, Miss Malfoy."

"Minister," she greeted him demurely, accepting his hand. "I'm so delighted that you could join us this evening."

"The pleasure is mine, my dear girl!" Fudge released her hand, drew a lime green handkerchief from his robes, and dabbed at the perspiration on his face. "Lucius tells me that you're interested in politics, is that right?"

"Yes, sir," she confirmed. "I believe that the most effective way to serve our community is to be involved, and politics are ever so fascinating! My father often tells me stories of his visits to the Ministry, and how the departments work so hard to ensure that we are protected."

Fudge nodded several times. "Yes, it is a noble aspiration indeed. I'm also told that you have excellent scores in your classes at school."

Carina flashed a brilliant smile. "I intend to bring every possible skill to the table should I be accepted into the Ministry, sir. Nothing less than Oustanding work is acceptable to me, you understand."

Again, Fudge nodded. "A true Slytherin indeed," he commended. "Clever and ambitious, just like your parents."

"You are too kind, Minister," Narcissa put in as Lucius placed his hand proudly on Carina's shoulder.

The conversation turned to policies currently on the table for review, and Carina listened with rapt attention. Her concentration broke when her father flinched, his left hand tightening almost painfully on her shoulder. She would have missed his sharp intake of breath if not for that subtle reaction, and she glanced quickly up at him.

Lucius dropped his hand from her shoulder, forcing a practiced smile as he met her questioning gaze.

"Excuse me, Minister," he interrupted smoothly, making a show of looking at his pocket watch. "I believe I must attend to a matter upstairs for a moment. Do forgive me if I steal my wife away. Carina, I trust that we can leave the Minister in your capable hands."

"Of course, Father."

Her parents made their swift, graceful exit as the conversation lulled. Carina bit the inside of her lip at the way Narcissa accompanied him on the right—she always walked at his left, but her father seemed to be favoring that arm.

"Is your father quite alright?" Fudge's voice interrupted her analysis.

"Of course," she lied smoothly. "One of his foreign business associates insisted on meeting with him this evening."

Fudge's eyebrows crinkled. "On the evening of your debut? It seems rather inconsiderate."

Carina brushed it off with a wave of her hand. "His schedule is very unpredictable, and it seems that this evening was his only open slot to meet with my father. He travels quite a lot, you see."

"I see." Somebody caught Fudge's eye over her shoulder. "I do hope you'll excuse me, Miss Malfoy. I believe that's Mr. Barkley over there, and I had hoped to speak to him about the Magical Creatures for Companions policy..."

"Of course, Minister." Carina flashed him another winning smile and the shorter man wandered away.

As badly as she wanted to go in search of her parents, she decided that it would be more beneficial for her to remain and entertain their guests to distract from their absence. With a breath, she went in search of the knot of reporters that lingered at the fringes of the crowd. They accepted her with open arms and Quick Quotes Quills, barraging her with questions.

The minutes ticked by as Carina answered questions about school, her future plans, and her dress, while evading in-depth questions about any of her suitors. At length she ended the interview, graciously thanking them for attending, and set out to play the part of hostess. She stopped to speak with as many of the guests as she could manage, conversation intermingled with dancing.

Nearly forty minutes passed before her parents reappeared. Carina skillfully extracted herself from a gaggle of girls in her year at school and met them just inside the doors.

"I hope your meeting with your associate went well," she said pointedly, nodding subtly to the couple of reporters edging near. "It's terribly unfortunate that his travel schedule is so tight."

If her parents were shaken by the impromptu excuse, they didn't show it.

"Indeed," Lucius agreed. "Mr. Ashman sends his regards and regrets that he could not stay to wish you well."

"Well, we'll simply have to invite him for tea," Carina decided. She was perturbed to see her mother still standing to her father's right but forced a smile. Her parents nodded and the three dispersed back into the crowd.

Throughout the night Carina searched for an opportunity to pull Draco to the side. She itched to discuss her father's abrupt, odd behavior, but the moment to do so never presented itself. Inwardly she sighed, and it came out as a hiss when a less refined suitor trod on her toes. She would have to wait until after her debut to speak to her brother.

* * *

As the ball at Malfoy Manor stretched into the night, a scrawny, messy-haired boy on Privet Drive jolted from sleep, nightmares of high voices, gigantic snakes, and a dead caretaker still haunting him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Carina Malfoy didn't wake with the dawn to the crowing of the cock. Instead, she awoke about midmorning to the piercing call of peacocks strutting the grounds some distance beneath her window. Instinctively, she groaned and covered her head with her pillow.

"I'm never getting bloody peacocks," she swore for the hundredth time. She rolled over, hazy visions of her debut drifting in and out focus before she jolted upright with a gasp.

"Father," she breathed. She dressed quickly and, taking care to compose herself, strode from the room. It took a bit of searching before she found her mother in one of the upstairs sitting rooms, having a cup of tea as she gazed absently out the wide window across the grounds. She didn't seem to notice Carina until her daughter touched her lightly on the shoulder. Even then, she hid her surprise and offered a tired smile.

"Good morning, darling," she greeted.

"Good morning. Have you seen Father?" she asked, perhaps more quickly than was necessary.

Narcissa thought for a moment. "He went out some time ago. He had somebody to meet with."

Carina frowned and sat across from her mother. Narcissa summoned a house elf to have a cup of tea brought to Carina.

"Something happened last night, didn't it?" she ventured. "While we were talking to the Minister."

Narcissa studied her daughter over the rim of her cup, then lowered it to the saucer on the table between them.

"It's nothing to concern yourself with," she answered briskly. Carina's brow furrowed.

"Was it something bad?" she pressed. Narcissa hesitated.

"Of course not, dear."

"Then what was so important that you had to leave the debut?" She purposefully forewent saying "my debut" in favor of "the debut," hoping to remind her mother that the event was as important to her parents as it had been to her. Narcissa eyed her disapprovingly.

"As your father said, there was simply a matter that we needed to deal with. You needn't worry so much, love," she reprimanded lightly.

Carina bit her lip. "I suppose… but Father looked like he was hurt…" She let the words trail off in something like a question, pleading with her eyes.

"He's fine," Narcissa assured her. "Why don't you go pack? We'll be leaving for the World Cup in the morning."

Carina sighed, knowing her mother could dance around her questions all day, though sending her on a task would be just as effective. She left the room, leaving her tea untouched on the table. Instead of heading for her own room, however, she detoured and knocked on Draco's door. Knowing full well he would still be sleeping, she entered without waiting for a response.

As she had expected, Draco still sprawled across his bed on his stomach, head beneath his pillow. He didn't snore—Malfoys never snored—but she could see the rise and fall of the lump that was his body as he breathed.

"Draco," Carina whispered. She prodded his ribs and he shifted just a little. "Draco, wake up."

He didn't move. Impatiently, she yanked the pillow from beneath the arm he'd slung over it to keep it in place. Draco moaned in protest and turned his face away from her. Carina rolled her eyes and flicked her wand at the heavy drapes, spilling the late morning sunlight into his room.

Draco groaned this time and threw a hand up to shield his eyes. "Wha're you doin'?" he complained. "What time is it?"

"Late," Carina answered curtly. "Scoot." She sat down on the bed, leaning against one post as she swung her feet up, crossing her ankles near his head.

"What do you want?" Draco mumbled, searching blindly for his pillow as his eyelids drooped closed again.

"I want to talk about Mother and Father," she told him. "Didn't you notice that they left last night?"

Draco, finally resigning himself to the fact that he wouldn't get to sleep any longer, rolled over and sat up, rubbing his hands over his face. Finally he answered, "Yeah, I noticed them leave and come back. You seemed kind of anxious about it, but I figured you were nervous about being the hostess while they were gone. Isn't that part of the deal? Mother and Father let you run things for a bit to show you're a good hostess or something?"

Carina shook her head. "They would have told me if it was. They didn't plan it. Father just… he had his hand on my shoulder and then suddenly he grabbed it kind of tightly, like he was in pain. Then he excused himself and Mother, and they left. They were gone for probably forty-five minutes or so."

Draco shrugged. "Maybe they went upstairs to the bedroom." He pulled a disgusted face and Carina rolled her eyes.

"It's terribly poor form for them to leave for such a silly reason. And besides, they were both immaculate when they returned." Carina considered for a moment before adding, "Mother walked on Father's right-hand side instead of his left."

Draco's brow furrowed. "Which means what, exactly?"

Carina raised her eyebrows in exasperation. "Mother always walks on his left. It's traditional for a bride to stand on her husband's left, and they've always walked that way. Mother sits to Father's left, she even sleeps to his left. Haven't you noticed?"

Draco shook his head. "I didn't realize it mattered so much."

Carina sat silently, mulling over the scene just before her parents had left. They'd been discussing policies… Nothing that would majorly affect their family came to mind. In fact, she couldn't think of a situation where her father would have been more comfortable.

"He was favoring his arm," she muttered to herself. At this, Draco looked up at her.

"Which arm?"

"Which do you think?" she asked irritably. Draco scowled at her.

"I'm just confirming that it was his left. You know, the arm he's got his Dark Mark on."

Carina stilled, not having considered that bit of information. Of course she'd seen the Mark before, and she knew of her father's involvement with the Dark Lord during the war. More often than not though, her father wore long-sleeved garments. She couldn't remember when she'd last seen him wearing anything that exposed the skin past his wrist.

"You don't think he could… _feel_ something, do you?" she asked quietly.

Draco met her gaze, sensing her unease. "If he did, do you think—"

The rest of his question went unasked as Narcissa rapped smartly on the door.

"Draco," she called.

"Yes, Mother?"

Narcissa opened the door, pausing when she caught sight of Carina on the bed. She swung her legs down and stood up.

"I thought you were packing," Narcissa said, one eyebrow raised primly in question.

"I thought I'd make sure Draco was awake. He would sleep the day away if we let him."

A smile touched Narcissa's face. "Best get ready. We leave tomorrow morning. I'll have breakfast sent up to your rooms."

Carina nodded, cast a quick glance at her brother, and followed her mother out of the room.

* * *

Carina spent the day packing, carefully choosing outfits for the days spent at the campground in addition to her personal journal, her study journal, and a few texts that she intended to look through while waiting for the Quidditch World Cup.

Once her bag was packed, Carina attempted to do some more of her schoolwork, but found her mind too preoccupied by her father's odd behavior the previous night and her mother's avoidance that morning. Instead, she pulled out her personal journal and recorded every potentially relevant detail that she could remember about her debut. Despite the fact that she wrote quickly, she still spent a couple of hours to complete it. By then, a house elf had been sent up to remind her about lunch.

After a brief meal with Narcissa, Carina and Draco went out for a round of Quidditch out on the grounds. Training certainly helped to take her mind off of it, redirecting her thoughts to her team and their tactics. Previously, the Slytherin captain had gone more for brawn than skill, and it had hurt their chances. Carina had made changes last year, however, and though they had fallen just shy of winning the Quidditch Cup, she hoped that this year they would have a better chance.

She faltered suddenly, thinking of the Triwizard Tournament. Surely they wouldn't cancel the Quidditch season in lieu of it, would they? The troubling thought caused her to let Draco's shot slip past her, and she scowled at his whoop of triumph.

"Always stay focused!" he parroted at her, one of her favorite instructions to her team.

Just to spite her brother, she dropped all pretenses of going easy on him and scored four goals in a row.

Once the siblings grew bored, they abandoned their game and brought in their gear. Carina took a quick shower, then picked up a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ from where her mother had left it at the dining room table during lunch. She'd been too preoccupied at the time to study the headlines, but now she peered closer at its contents.

The front page of the _Prophet_ was dominated by speculations about the upcoming match between Ireland and Bulgaria that would decide the champions of this year's World Cup. According to the list of contents cramped in one corner of the page, she noted that thus far, a story hadn't been released yet on her debut. That suited her just fine, she thought. She dreaded the story that Rita Skeeter would release, worried that Lyra's name would be dragged through the mud for her impotence.

Then again, she realized, Lyra didn't much care about her name being in the press. She relaxed and let the paper drop back to the table. With nothing else to do, she retreated to her room for further study.

* * *

Later that evening, her father returned home. Although the Manor was of a considerable size, she could note the slight change in the atmosphere when he arrived. Lucius Malfoy carried a certain presence with him wherever he went, and when the house itself seemed to stir in response, Carina all but dropped her book. She listened closely for a moment to the stillness.

There! The murmur of her mother's voice responding to her father's deeper timbre reached her, and she swung her legs off the bed. She resisted the urge to run down to meet him, instead hesitating just before she reached the staircase to listen.

"—_felt it as well,"_ Lucius was saying. _"Last night, at about the same time."_

"_What does this mean?"_ Narcissa asked quietly.

Carina hesitated, and she leaned forward to hear his response.

"_We must tread very lightly. Until we hear more, there is nothing to be done,"_ he murmured.

"_What about the cup?"_

"_We shall proceed as we always have."_

A long moment of silence followed, and Carina took another step forward to hear more of the conversation. The floorboard creaked beneath her and she cursed under her breath. She held it for a moment, hoping her parents hadn't heard.

"Carina?" Narcissa's voice carried up to her. "Draco?"

With a sigh, she strode out onto the stairs and descended, refusing to show any hesitance.

"You're home," she said to her father, not giving them a chance to question her as she reached the landing.

Lucius didn't so much as nod. "It isn't becoming to skulk about," he reproached her. Carina frowned.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You vanished last night and then this morning you were gone," she explained.

Narcissa fixed her with a stern look. "We discussed this, Carina. It is nothing of concern."

"But there is something that happened," she pressed.

"As your mother said, it is nothing to be concerned with," Lucius said.

"But I am concerned. You left my debut last night."

"And you did wonderfully acting as hostess," Narcissa commended her. "Truly, we were not missed by our guests."

"You were missed by me," she argued.

"Carina Rosalind, you will respect your mother," Lucius warned sharply.

"I'm just trying to understand what happened to make you leave," she pleaded. "I'm of age, I can handle it!"

"This isn't a matter of age," her mother told her.

"Is it something to do with your Dark Mark?" she asked, playing off of their assumption that she wasn't aware of it. For a moment, her parents appeared stunned, and she took advantage of it.

"Father, I'm not Draco. I may have only been four when the war ended, but I still remember things about it. I—"

Lucius cut her off.

"That is enough," he snapped deliberately. "We'll speak no more of this."

Carina dropped her eyes. Although she now knew that there was more than her parents were telling, she didn't dare push her father when he had that dangerous glint in his eye. A few seconds passed in tense, uncomfortable silence.

"Do you understand?" he asked, slightly calmer now.

"Yes."

Lucius straightened. "Good." He swept out of the room, and after a moment Narcissa followed. When they had gone, Carina clenched and unclenched her fists, gritting her teeth. Her head jerked up at the sound of footsteps descending the stairs.

"What was that about?" Draco asked, staring between Carina and the door their parents had vanished through.

"Nothing," she muttered sourly, and pushed past him back up the stairs to her room.

OOO

Although Carina was tempted to have her dinner brought up to her, she didn't want her father to think that she was giving up on the matter entirely. She sat beside Draco in the dining room, eating stiffly. Draco glanced between her and his parents, and Carina imagined the little dragon scuttling anxiously between her wrist and elbow.

At length, Lucius broke the silence.

"Did you study this evening?" His question was directed at Draco, who tensed the tiniest bit. Carina nibbled her bread, saying nothing.

"Yes," Draco responded slowly. "I thought I'd get ahead before we leave tomorrow morning."

Lucius nodded his approval before turning to Carina. "How are your studies?"

"I've been studying Transfiguration and Potions," she said evenly. "And I've been reading up on the policies being reviewed by the Ministry."

Lucius regarded her for a moment. "And what do you think of the proposed increased security for the Department of Mysteries?"

Carina caught herself before she could shrug. "I think they're putting resources into a project that could be better used elsewhere. Everyone knows that the security is already nearly impossible to crack."

"It would seem that the Department of Mysteries has been experiencing more nosy visitors than the Ministry is comfortable with," Lucius countered.

Carina took a moment to chew the piece of bread she'd placed in her mouth before answering. "They wouldn't happen to be having trouble with any other Ministry members, would they? I mean, they are still part of the government."

"The Ministry is a large organization, with hundreds of employees," Lucius replied, cutting into an expertly prepared salmon. "Not all of them should be privy to the kind of sensitive information contained within that department."

"What if that information were necessary for their safety?" Carina pressed.

"It would be up to the Minister and the head of the department to decide what information was pertinent," Lucius explained.

Just then, a house-elf scuttled into the room and effectively derailed the conversation as she offered the _Evening Prophet_ to Lucius. Carina straightened immediately as his cool, silvery eyes skated over the headlines. He flipped open to the society pages, then handed the paper to Narcissa with an unreadable expression. Carina swallowed as her mother's cool, blue eyes scanned the same article, itching to see the paper. It took all of her restraint not to snatch the paper from Narcissa's hands when she handed it to Carina.

A brilliant, black-and-white photograph of Carina adorned a decent section of the page as she turned slightly with the "society smile" Lyra had mentioned settled easily on her lips. Her eyes skipped over the photograph—she already knew she looked radiant—to the headline and accompanying article.

**The Inside Scoop—Carina Malfoy's Dazzling Debut**

_The brightest and most glamorous of Britain's wizarding community donned their best robes to welcome the eldest daughter of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, Carina Rosalind, into high society, and the lady of the hour did not disappoint! Gliding into the room wearing a stunning blue-to-silver gown tailored to make her shine, it was impossible not to be impressed by the poise and elegance displayed by one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight's own._

_Previous to the young Miss Malfoy's grand entrance, a private dinner was held in the company of the Malfoys' most exclusive guests, including chairmen of the charities to which the Malfoys have so graciously donated, and suitors eager to win the fair maiden's hand. While the _Prophet _was unable to attend this portion of the evening, sources tell us that it was as grand as can be expected from one of the wealthiest families in Britain. As always, Carina Rosalind presented herself with grace and poise that could only come from her mother._

_During her debut, Miss Malfoy was introduced to several eligible bachelors, include schoolmate Erak Duncan. In an interview with the _Prophet_, Miss Malfoy remained tight-lipped about her opinions of these suitors. "I've met a number of young men during my time at school," she commented mysteriously, "but very few of them could measure up to the fine gentlemen I've met here tonight." One must wonder if, perhaps, one of these lucky attendees might have already caught the eye of the newest bachelorette._

Carina fought to contain her eye-roll at the focus this author put on her imaginary love life, and continued reading.

_Miss Malfoy also proved to be an excellent hostess when Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy excused themselves for an important meeting with a foreign contact, actively entertaining her guests and graciously letting the _Prophet_ in on her unconventional plans for her future._

"_I intend to pursue great things during my last year at Hogwarts," she stated. "Once I've graduated, I intend to pursue a career of my own in politics."_

_Upon being asked if a career is temporary until she marries, Miss Malfoy faltered in answering. "As a Slytherin, I have always been ambitious and have no desire to temper that trait. If my suitors disagree, then perhaps they might better spend their time keeping up with me than dissuading me from my goals."_

_True to her word, Carina Rosalind is as ambitious as they come. Heading into her final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Miss Malfoy will continue her duties as a Slytherin Prefect and Quidditch Captain, as well as carrying an impressive course schedule in preparation for her N.E.W.T.s at the end of the year. Miss Malfoy also hinted at an additional extracurricular project she will be undertaking before the year is out, though she refuses to offer details to the _Prophet_ at this time._

_Clearly, Miss Malfoy seems to be shaping up to be a career woman, with no interest in suitors who intend for her to be a demure wife. No word yet on the opinions of Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy regarding their daughter's intended plans._

Carina pressed her lips into a thin line and lowered the paper, not bothering to read the rest of the article discussing the guests and who spoke to whom and who wore what. Draco had already taken advantage of her silence by quizzing their father about the players on the Bulgarian and Irish teams, and Carina was grateful for the momentary distraction as she processed the article.

She had hoped that drawing attention to her career and plans at school would distract from the suitor situation, but the reporter seemed fixated on her newly-minted "bachelorette" status.

She wasn't aware that she had been chewing on the inside of her lip until Narcissa cleared her throat and Carina sank her teeth in more deeply than she had intended. She stifled a gasp and met her mother's stern look. She released her lip and straightened up the tiniest bit.

"What do you think?" she probed, trying to mask her impatience as she shifted her gaze to her father.

"You did well," he said simply. "Particularly when your mother and I, ah, stepped out for a moment."

"Speaking of which," she pressed, flattening her hands on the table. Lucius's warning gaze snapped to her face, and she immediately quelled beneath it, switching subjects. "The _Prophet_ seemed eager to know about my plans at the time. They obviously want a statement from you concerning them. What would you have told them, had you been present?"

At this, her father relaxed and considered.

"That you are as ambitious as any Slytherin with a strong mind and will," he remarked.

"You will do great things," Narcissa added fondly. Carina's chest warmed at the praise, and for a moment, she almost forgot all about the Dark Mark and her parents' tense behavior.

Almost.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I'll be honest; this chapter took me forever to write. I knew what needed to happen, but I couldn't quite figure out how to go about getting from Point A to Point B. Thank you for your patience, and I dearly hope by the end of this chapter you, as readers, will feel the wait was worth it! As always, reviews are welcome.**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Although the prospect of attending the Quidditch World Cup filled Draco with eagerness, the same could not be said about the Muggle clothes they had to wear before entering the campsite. Despite his father's attempts, he couldn't secure a permit to Apparate directly to their site. No, they had to do things by the book.

Narcissa, of course, had paid somebody to supply proper Muggle clothing for the occasion. To Draco's dismay, this included a pair of Muggle jeans that felt more restricting than his clean, pressed trousers; a pair of horrendous white sneakers; a far-too-casual t-shirt; and a drawstring jacket that he highly doubted would keep out the chill as effectively as his traveling cloak.

"Why on earth do Muggles wear these things?" he grumbled to Carina as they walked to the entrance of the campsite, tugging on the belt loop of his waistband as though it might loosen the garment a little.

"At least _you_ have proper pockets," she shot back in disgust. "Look at this! I can barely fit a third of my hand on these front ones, and this one is a _fake pocket!_ Who on earth designed these? You can barely fit anything inside them!"

Draco snickered a little at the ridiculous lack of depth and shoved his hands into his own pockets just to watch Carina's face darken in envy.

Once they reached their site, their father wasted no time in summoning a house-elf to set up their tent. Billowing swaths of black and white cloth, accented with Bulgarian red, burst forth from nothing at the snap of the elf's fingers. The final product resembled their mansion from home on a much smaller scale, with only three floors instead of their familiar five and two lower levels. Shortly after, the house-elf vanished with a distinct _pop!_

When the elf returned moments later holding the leads of four large, white peacocks, Draco shared a pained look with Carina. One of them let out a high shriek as it studied its new habitat and Draco cringed at the noise. He'd have to ask Carina to put a Silencing Charm around his quarters in the tent if he wanted his ears intact before the Quidditch Cup.

Throughout the day Narcissa hosted tea parties in the tent parlor for her social acquaintances and Lucius invited a few select individuals to the tent for other business. Draco could tell that Carina itched to be listening at the door, but since her debut, there had been a painfully obvious tension between her and their parents. Lucius had taken to placing Silencing Charms around his study during these meetings, and it drove Carina mad.

So Draco convinced her to explore the field with him, studying the newcomers as they flooded the space. Their tent was at the epicenter of Bulgaria's supporters, but the divide between the seas of green and red was obvious. The closer the Cup came, the more people pressed into the field and the less Draco could breathe outside of their tent.

As the match grew nearer, Lucius held a decidedly exclusive meeting in his study. Even Narcissa had been included, while Draco and Carina were explicitly instructed to remain on the ground level. Carina had argued, but ultimately she complied when the first of her father's guests arrived. Grumbling, she joined Draco in the lounge.

"It's ridiculous!" she burst, practically flopping onto the couch. "I'm an adult, and I _know_ something is going on, but they treat me like a child."

Draco snorted and she tossed a glare at him.

"What?" she demanded.

"You're seventeen, Carina," he said. "You may be of age now, but you still have an entire year of school left."

She groaned, rolling onto her back and covering her face.

"Good thing Mother can't see you," Draco taunted, raising the pitch of his voice to imitate Narcissa. _"I didn't realize I was raising a Muggle child."_

Carina stifled a laugh and sat up. The humor fled her features though as she peered longingly upward.

"I wish they'd trust us enough to tell us what's going on," she said quietly.

Draco frowned, sobering. "You don't think it has something to do with what happened at your debut, do you?"

Carina shook her head slowly. "No, I… I'm not sure. Father seemed pretty upset about that, but with this he seems more determined."

Draco shrugged. "Maybe it's nothing," he suggested.

Carina sighed and stood up. "I'm going for a walk. Want to come?"

He considered for a moment. "Might as well. I've got nothing better to do right now."

"I feel like they're planning something," Carina confided as they strolled into the sunlight.

Draco blinked for a moment as his eyes adjusted, then noticed Carina had stiffened next to him. Glancing up, he saw why. Making their way through the Bulgarian camp were three figures he knew all too well.

Potter, Weasley, and Granger wandered through the camp, completely awestruck at their surroundings. All three of them wore Muggle clothing, though unlike most other witches and wizards they'd seen on the field today, the three of them seemed comfortable in their attire. Weasley swung a bucket in one hand, and Draco assumed they'd been on their way to the line at the water spout. As they walked, they laughed and smiled, and something hard formed in Draco's stomach at the sight of them.

"I didn't think the Weasleys could afford tickets," he muttered to Carina. She nodded her head minutely in agreement.

Potter, Weasley, and Granger paused a few meters in front of their tent, gawking at their peacocks. Granger's mouth had dropped open a little at the sight of their tent and the bird, but she snapped it shut upon spotting him. Potter, however, narrowed his eyes at Draco. He wrinkled his nose in response.

"I thought I smelled something foul," Draco taunted.

"Must be your birds," Potter shot back. Granger, predictably, reached out to seize both boys by the arms.

"Harry, leave it," she warned quietly. Draco smirked.

"Better listen to your girlfriend, Potter," he suggested. "She's the only one with half a brain between the three of you."

Granger's cheeks pinkened as she dragged her friends away, telling them that it didn't matter.

Beside him, Carina sighed. "Must you provoke them?"

Draco knitted his eyebrows together as he stared after the trio. "Why not? It's true, isn't it? Granger's the only one with anything resembling cleverness. Besides, they should know their place."

Carina didn't answer. Glancing sideways at her, Draco realized that she was no longer listening. In fact, she seemed fixated on something in the distance. He peered into the pandemonium of the match-goers, but couldn't decide what she was looking at. Instead, he pulled up his sleeve to study the little inked ship. A breeze had been kicked up, and gentle waves lapped the sides of it.

Draco raised his head and stared into the crowd of people as they milled about, then turned his gaze to Carina. His tattoo displayed her excitement, but her expression was completely focused.

"What are you looking at?" he finally asked.

Carina jumped and a pink tint colored her cheeks.

"Nothing," she said quickly. "I was just wondering about Lyra. Her father was able to get tickets."

Draco rolled his eyes at the obvious excuse. "Fine. Keep your secrets."

Carina huffed indignantly and set off in a random direction. "Are you coming or what?"

Though her avoidance bothered him, he quickened his pace to catch up.

* * *

That evening, Draco accompanied his parents and sister to the Top Box, where the Minister of Magic greeted them eagerly. His eyes raked over the luxurious purple and gold seats reserved specifically for the Minister and his guests. His mood instantly soured when he saw who they would be sharing the space with.

Eight green-clad Weasleys, with Potter and Granger were seated together, just in front of a pitiful little house-elf covering its eyes with its enormous ears. The whole lot of them reminded Draco of a great, misshapen green clover that had been stamped on too many times. Draco narrowed his eyes in a hateful glare at Potter and his two friends. The boys glared back while Granger studied them with a decidedly guarded expression.

While his father and Mr. Weasley pretended to make nice in front of Fudge—the man was ridiculously oblivious to the tension between the men—Carina leaned over.

"Isn't it odd how we've switched colors?" she whispered in his ear, motioning subtly to the Irish merchandise.

Draco laughed under his breath as he glanced at his sister and realized that the two of them were, indeed, decked out in scarlet in support of Bulgaria. There were the Weasleys, Gryffindor to the core, drenched in Slytherin green while he and his family sported a close match to the Gryffindor scarlet. He never thought he'd see the day. The tense moment broke as Draco and Carina followed their parents to their seats.

"Did you notice that the Bulgarian Prime Minister was speaking to one of the Aurors in English earlier when the Minister's back was turned?" Carina asked when they'd taken their seats. "Apparently Fudge has been miming to him all day. I don't know that I've ever seen a man so clueless!"

This time Draco laughed outright.

"I do pity the poor man," Lucius added dryly from Carina's left. "Favors the Weasleys far too much."

Draco glanced back at his Gryffindor classmates, who seemed to have already forgotten about him as they turned around to talk to the house-elf behind them. Somehow, he felt strangely irritated that they paid more attention to the elf than they did to him.

"You're pouting," Carina murmured beside him. "Stop it. They're announcing the teams soon."

Sure enough, Ludo Bagman eagerly bustled into the Top Box, bright yellow and black robes nearly blinding in their brightness.

"It'll be quite a close match," he was saying jovially. "Ah, Draco, my boy! You wouldn't be interested in making a wager, would you? The Weasley twins have placed quite an interesting bet. They think that Victor Krum will catch the Snitch, but Ireland will win the match! They were so certain that they bet their life savings! Quite unusual, yes…"

Draco exchanged a look with Carina as Bagman carried on, both declining his offer to place any bets. Even without their father's stern gaze on them, Draco knew gambling was less than proper. Instead, he took solace in knowing those obnoxious Weasley twins would ultimately lose every coin they possessed with their ridiculous wager. It couldn't have been more than five Sickles.

A few minutes later, the team mascots were introduced. Draco recognized the white-gold hair and slender bodies of the Bulgarian mascots almost immediately, and when the Veela began to dance, Draco's mind began to drift.

As the wheels in his head began to turn, somebody snatched his Omnioculars from his hands and Draco seemed to fall back into his body with a heavy _thump!_ He turned to glare at Carina, but found his mother holding the Omnioculars.

"Don't look," she instructed him sternly. "I won't have you behaving like—" She gestured to the other side of the box, and Draco glanced over at the Weasleys, Potter, and Granger. Potter was poised at the edge of the box as though he might leap over the edge, one arm held captive by Granger as she tried to pull him back down. The youngest Weasley boy seemed determined to mutilate his shamrock hat until his father plucked it from his grasp. Draco laughed at the dumbfounded looks on their faces.

"Don't look so pleased with yourself," Carina snickered. "You looked just as foolish a second ago."

Draco glared at her, but she simply flipped through her program with a smug smile on her face. He settled back in his seat, determined not to let her teasing dampen his mood. After all, they had a match to watch.

* * *

Later that evening—or rather, unnecessarily early the following morning—Draco was still trying to figure out if the Weasley twins had somehow managed to get their hands on a Time Turner in order to make a winning bet. Their accuracy was certainly unprecedented, but then again, perhaps they'd borrowed a trick from Granger…

Despite having had to share a box with them, Draco had found once the match started that it was all too easy to forget about Potter, Granger, and the Weasleys. He and Carina had nearly screamed themselves hoarse in support of Bulgaria, earning them a few glares from their father. Draco thought Lucius could hardly blame him—since he joined Carina on their House team at Hogwarts, he'd gained a whole new respect and perspective on the sport. Watching the fast-paced game had been exhilarating, right up until the moment Krum chose to end the game.

Draco scowled at the ceiling, hands behind his head as he listened to the ongoing celebration of the Irish win. Once the fireworks had started, his father had ordered a house-elf to return home with the panicked, shrieking peacocks. At least that was one ear-splitting headache out of the way.

Draco checked his watch and groaned, rolling out of bed and descending to the ground level where Carina was sketching in one of her many journals.

"Don't any of those leprechaun imposters believe in sleep?" he grumbled to her. Carina looked up at him with a wry smile.

"If they hold to the Irish traditions, they'll drink the night away and probably start a few accidental fires in the meantime," she told him. Draco's eyes widened the slightest bit as the face of one of his classmates rose to the surface of his mind.

"Somebody better keep Finnegan away from all fire hazards," he muttered.

"Who?"

"Classmate," Draco explained shortly. "The bumbling idiot has a tendency toward accidental explosions. He was rooting for the Irish."

Carina nodded, laying down the bit of charcoal in her hand and stretching out her fingers. Draco peered curiously over her shoulder at the drawing and his eyebrows rose.

"Veela?"

Carina nodded. "They were fascinating to watch during the match. You know, there are rumors that the Malfoy line carries a trace amount of Veela blood." She tapped her chin thoughtfully and turned to a new page as Draco wrinkled his nose.

"Rubbish," he decided. "If that were true, we wouldn't be one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, would we?"

"It would explain our good looks though, wouldn't it?" Carina teased. She bent over the page and began a rough outline. Draco craned his neck to see, but she blocked his view with her arm.

"Hey!" he protested.

"Just wait a minute," she insisted. "It's not ready yet."

Draco dropped into the chair next to her to sulk while she worked. "Fine. Where are Mother and Father?"

Carina's lips tightened. "They said they had something to prepare for."

"No wonder you couldn't sleep," Draco commented, and she shot him a look.

"I could sleep if I wanted to. I just felt like sketching a bit tonight."

She worked for several minutes as Draco watched, and at length she turned the book around to show him the finished product. Draco blinked as he pulled it near, studying the two figures with ferocious, avian features and wings sprouting from their shoulders. Upon closer inspection, he spotted the tattoos on their arms and nearly laughed.

"You've drawn us as Veela?" he asked.

"Angry Veela," Carina corrected. "They're quite fascinating, don't you think?"

Before Draco could respond, Narcissa descended the stairs with a pair of traveling cloaks draped over her arm.

"Put these on," she instructed. "Quickly now."

Draco shared a puzzled look with Carina, but did as they were told.

"Mum?" Carina asked. "What's going on?"

Narcissa offered a secretive smile. "Just a little… late celebration."

Lucius appeared just then, draped in a dark, hooded cloak. Draco spied a mask tucked into the crook of his arm and he cocked his head to one side, excitement bubbling inside him.

"You're going out tonight, aren't you?"

A sneer crept across his father's face. "I believe it's time for the riff-raff to remember their place in this world, especially those filthy Muggles who think they run this place."

Draco shot an eager look at Carina, but her expression remained worried.

"What about us?" she pressed. "Where will we be?"

"You and your brother will go to the forest," Narcissa said. "We need you to stay safe."

"Are you going too?" Draco asked, puzzled.

Narcissa shook her head. "No. I'll be staying here to pack up the tent."

Draco frowned at that, but nodded.

"How will we find you?" Carina spoke up again, and Draco noticed her clutching the journal tightly in her hand.

Narcissa reached for her hand and pressed an old, tarnished silver key into Carina's palm.

"Keep that with you," she instructed quietly. "Your father and I will be able to Apparate to you wherever you are."

Carina gave a solemn nod and closed her fingers around the key.

"Go now," Lucius ordered. "Keep to the forest, and stay safe."

Draco grinned at his parents, raised his hood over his head, and followed Carina quickly out of the tent and into the darkness. They moved quickly along the softly illuminated paths, ignoring the occasional leprechaun whizzing by overhead. He peered around the campsite, which looked a little eerie as they moved further from the Irish supporters and through the ghostly-still tents of the Bulgarian supporters.

"Keep up," Carina whispered over her shoulder, and Draco realized he'd fallen behind. He lengthened his stride to keep up with her swift gait and noticed her stiff movements as she walked.

"You look like you've been hexed," he told her. "Relax, would you? Nothing's even happened yet. Besides, none of Father's associates would hurt us."

"I'm not worried about us," Carina retorted quietly. "I'm worried about Father getting caught. They've taken an insane amount of security measures for this event."

"That's what will make this so brilliant," Draco boasted, keeping his voice low enough for only her to hear. "Death Eaters have slipped in right under their noses, and there's nothing the Ministry can do about it."

"Be quiet!" Carina hissed, whirling around to grab his arm. She lowered her voice even lower as she spoke in his ear. "People might still be awake. Do you _want_ Father to get caught?"

Draco scowled and shook her off. "Alright, alright. Relax. He'll be fine." He brushed past her, heading for the tree line.

A few minutes passed in silence as they picked their way through the campsite and finally found refuge in the forest. As Draco leaned against a tree facing the site, Carina paced anxiously between two others.

Just then, a distant glow grew in the distance, followed by a few solitary screams and another flare of light. Draco watched as the chaos began to spread—slowly at first, then more rapidly as the entire camp awoke. He watched a flurry of disoriented figures spill from their tents in a panic, running about in sheer confusion.

"Look at them all," he said, snickering. Carina paused beside him and her expression darkened.

"I don't like this," she said, resuming her pacing.

Draco glanced at her. "Why not? Father's putting that Muggle family in their proper place, and the Mudbloods too."

At first Draco thought she'd simply chosen not to answer, but over the distant ruckus he realized her pacing had halted. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Carina had gone rigid.

* * *

_She creeps down the hallway that feels too long in the dark. The unpleasant voices fade into distant nothingness as Daddy's friends take their leave of the Manor. Her baby brother sleeps all too peacefully in the room Mummy told them to share tonight. They share this room more nights than not these days. She misses sleeping alone and she's come to tell Mummy so._

_Footsteps thump along the carpet in Daddy's study and she freezes, waiting to see if the voices coming from the door standing ajar are friendly._

"_Lucius," Mummy says. Carina likes the way she says it better than Daddy's boss, the handsome man who visits with dark robes and even darker eyes. She creeps forward again_

"_All is well, my love," Daddy answers. "The Dark Lord is pleased with us. More pleased than with that pitiful excuse of a man who brought us false information from the Order."_

_Carina peers around the door. Mummy stands next to Daddy in front of his fireplace. Her back is turned, but Daddy's face is illuminated by the glow of the fire. He's happy about something and laughs, but something about it is wrong, somehow. She doesn't like this kind of laugh and notices how Mummy freezes._

"_What's happened to him?" she whispers. Carina leans forward to hear._

"_The Dark Lord has, ah, put him in his proper place, as all traitors ought to be. He has entrusted me with a precious and powerful artifact."_

_Daddy holds something up, and Carina presses her eye to the small opening to see it better. She frowns. It doesn't look powerful, she thinks. It's nothing but a small, black book…_

* * *

Like icy rain sluicing down her back, voices jolted her back to the present. She clenched her fists to ban the memory of the book, trembling. Draco jostled her shoulder as his words became clearer in her ears.

"Carina? What's going on?" he asked, worry evident in his voice. Carina stared back at him, shaken by how similar his words had been to her father's from so very long ago…

_Put in their proper place._

She slammed her eyes shut against the abrasive memory, and Draco's grip on her shoulder tightened.

"Carina, talk to me," he hissed, barely concealing his concern. Footsteps approached on the path, whispers filling the woods around them. Carina drew in a long breath, then opened her eyes. People were everywhere now, spreading through the woods as they fled a riot that had broken out in the camp, but none were close enough to be privy to their conversation.

"I'm fine," she said quietly. "It's nothing."

Draco glanced down at his arm where her ship drifted on his skin. Moonlight flickered through the leaves overhead, betraying the agitated waves she struggled to navigate. An unspoken accusation lay in his eyes when he looked back up at her. Carina scowled and swatted his hand from her shoulder.

"It's really nothing," she insisted tensely.

Draco opened his mouth to argue, but another set of voices and footsteps drawing near blessedly captured his attention. As Draco turned to survey the newcomers, Carina leaned against the nearest tree. Despite the desperate need to pick apart the flashback, she filed it away for later analysis.

She gazed back at the camp and her stomach twisted. In the center of the camp, a large knot of people had formed. Over their heads, four little figures twisted uncomfortably as they struggled against Levitation charms. Her lips tugged downward in a frown. This was too reckless…

She flicked her eyes from the forming riot to the three approaching figures, and Draco scoffed.

"Of course," she heard him mutter as Potter, Granger, and Weasley stumbled along the path in the dark. It appeared only Granger had enough sense to light her wand to illuminate the way. Potter was patting himself down, turning out his pockets in frustration.

"I must've left it back in the tent," he lamented to his friends, who frowned.

"I'm sure we'll find it," Granger told him consolingly.

"Lost something again, have you?" Draco sneered. Carina rolled her eyes. Her brother never could pass up an opportunity to poke fun at his rival. "You're as bad as Longbottom, Potter. Should I get you a Remembrall for your birthday?"

"Bugger off, Malfoy," Weasley spat.

Draco leaned against the tree next to Carina, appraising them. "I'm not the one in danger, Weasley. But you, Granger, might want to keep your head down."

Granger, who had looked as though she might intervene and drag the boys away a moment before, stiffened. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't you know?" he drawled. "They're after _Muggles,_ Granger."

"Hermione's a witch," Potter snapped immediately.

"Shouldn't you two be out there wearing hoods with your parents anyway?" Weasley added, glaring at the Malfoy siblings. Carina folded her arms to keep from hexing the fool, returning the glare with fervor.

"I suggest you move along before you say something you regret," she said icily.

The Gryffindors flinched at her tone. It was one thing to get into a fight with Draco, but Carina was another force entirely to be reckoned with, and she knew it. A tense moment passed, and she wondered whether she might have to draw her wand. To her immense relief, the Gryffindors exchanged glances and moved away without another word.

Once they were out of earshot, however, Draco rounded on her.

"I didn't need your help," he told her irritably. "I've been dealing with Potter, the weasel, and the Mudblood for three years."

"Don't pretend you weren't going to say something stupid to clue them in about Father," she sighed wearily. The weight of the late hour and the concerns crowding her thoughts bore down on her as she leaned more heavily against the tree.

"I wouldn't betray him like that," he muttered grumpily. Normally this would be his cue to stomp into his bedroom to sulk, but he settled for sitting at the base of the next tree over to watch the spectacle. After all, they were meant to stay together for when their parents came to fetch them. Still, Carina smirked at the usual pout settling on his face.

The next several minutes didn't exactly pass in silence as distant screams reverberated through the air, accompanied by the cacophony of pounding feet and frantic whispers. Carina fingered the silver key her mother had given her, both parts eager and afraid to delve too deeply into the flashback before she was safely at home. Draco watched the riot, not speaking after her intervention.

Abruptly, green light burst forth high over their heads and after a shocked second, screams started anew. Startled, Carina scrambled to her feet with Draco immediately by her side. They could see nothing as they peered through the foliage.

"Come on." Carina seized Draco's arm and dragged him through the woods until they came to a small clearing where the sky was visible. Carina craned her neck, and when her eyes landed on the source of panic, her knees weakened and her mouth dried.

A gleaming, hazy green constellation had taken up residence over the forest in the shape of a skull, spilling a serpent from its mouth. It glittered like emeralds, scalding Carina's insides as she clutched Draco's arm for support.

"The Dark Mark," Draco breathed reverently beside her.

Exactly twelve seconds later, twin popping noises echoed in Carina's ears and hands seized both her and Draco. She opened her mouth to scream, but before she could so much as suck in a breath, the painful squeeze of Apparition cut her off. A moment later, it was over, and Carina stumbled to the floor in the foyer of Malfoy Manor.

Carina flipped onto her back, wand already in hand until she recognized the ghastly pale faces of her parents. Her father's mask fell to the carpet as he and Narcissa knelt and pulled their children into a tight, uncharacteristic hug. Carina was so taken aback by the situation that the questions spilling into the vacant spaces of her mind went up in smoke. She clung tightly to her parents, simply relieved to be alive.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Carina and Draco spent the next several days confined to the Malfoy property. The atmosphere was thick with fear and tension as Lucius and Narcissa moved uneasily about the house, having whispered conversations whenever they thought their children couldn't hear them.

On this particular morning, four days after the Quidditch World Cup and the riot, Carina had resigned herself to her bedroom, finally picking up her journal to write. The morning after they'd returned home so abruptly, she'd written the bare bones of the night's events, but couldn't bring herself to make speculations or insert any sort of emotion into the record. Now that time had passed, she should be able to collect her thoughts.

Still, as she sat at her desk, quill poised over the welcoming pages, she hesitated. She knew it was important to her mental health to dissect her emotions about that night, from the moment her father had come down the stairs in his black cloak to the moment he brought her home, nearly paralyzed by his own fear. But doing so would also mean confronting her flashback—her father's words, Draco's too-easy repetition of them, and the black book…

An unwelcome shudder skittered down her spine and the quill quivered in her fingers. She flicked it down irritably, pushing away from the desk with more force than was probably necessary.

"No!" she hissed vehemently, squeezing her eyes shut as though that would banish the memory from her consciousness.

A low whistle from the doorway cut through her thoughts and she jumped in her seat. She turned to see Draco leaning against her doorframe, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

"I've seen you get upset at those novels you read, but never at your own journal," he teased. "What did it do, bite you?"

A little of the tension seeped from Carina's shoulders and she rolled her eyes, attempting to brush off the embarrassing moment. "It's nothing. What are you doing?"

"I'm bored." To prove his point, Draco flopped gracelessly onto her bed. "Father won't even let me go flying with Blaise this afternoon."

"Tragic," Carina said dryly, crossing her arms. Draco tossed her an annoyed look, but it slipped away just as quickly as his eyebrows knitted together.

"Have you eaten anything?" he asked. "You look like the Grey Lady."

Carina glared at him. "Geez, I hope you don't treat all your friends like this when they're having a bad day."

"I know I can get away with it with you," he said cheekily. "So something _is_ wrong then."

_Damn._ Carina glanced toward her window. "I just keep thinking about the Dark Mark at the World Cup and what it all means," she admitted. It wasn't the whole truth, but enough of the truth to draw Draco's attention away from another particular demon. Over on the bed, her brother straightened up and frowned at her.

"Me too. I don't understand why Father would run from it… He's always going on about how great everything was under the Dark Lord, but then this happens and he just… abandons the riot."

"They _all_ abandoned the riot," Carina pointed out. "Think about it, Draco. If the Dark Lord is back somehow, most of his followers are either dead, rotting in Azkaban, or have denounced him to save their own skins. If the Dark Lord found out how many lies about being _manipulated into the cause_ his followers have told, many of them would be put in their—" She swallowed hard against the words that still left a foul taste in her mouth. "Punished. That includes Father."

Draco's frown deepened at that. "Aunt Bella's still in Azkaban, isn't she? Because she was loyal to the Dark Lord."

Carina flinched at the mention of her aunt. They rarely spoke of her. "Yeah. I think she and Father still have bad blood between them since he chose to cover his allegiance to stay with us. Mother once told me Aunt Bella fancied herself a martyr and couldn't understand why Father wasn't the same."

Draco studied a pattern on her duvet, still frowning. "Do you think he's back?"

Carina considered for a long moment, then slowly shook her head. "No. Father was one of his biggest supporters, so it makes sense that he would be among the first to know. If he knew the Dark Lord had returned, he wouldn't have been so spooked by the Dark Mark."

They fell into silence as more questions circulated. Carina was still trying to puzzle out the motivation behind somebody casting the Dark Mark without having killed anybody, when Draco spoke up again.

"So, are you going to tell me what you saw that night when you zoned out?"

Carina tensed under his scrutiny. She knew he'd bring it up again sooner or later—he always did.

"No," she answered, careful to keep her tone neutral. "I haven't had time to work through what I saw yet."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Really? You've been locked up in your room all morning. Your textbooks still have dust on them since before we left. What do you mean you haven't had time?"

She wrinkled her nose in annoyance. "Have you considered that maybe I don't want to talk about it?"

"Is it about the boy you like?"

"What? No! What boy?" Inwardly, Carina cringed at her hasty reaction. It was all the confirmation her brother needed.

Draco snickered. "I knew it!"

Her cheeks flushed and her temper flared. "It wasn't about him, okay? Why on earth would I zone out over a _boy_ in the middle of all that? He was the furthest thing from my mind."

Something in his expression flickered. "Is this about that summer?"

Carina blinked, reeling as though she'd been slapped. _That summer_ brought too many images to the forefront of her mind—blank pages that soaked up ink like a sponge, morning shifting to afternoon in the blink of an eye, an all too handsome face with something hidden behind his eyes—and she squeezed her eyes shut to banish them.

"I've told you I don't want to talk about that," she warned through gritted teeth. When at last she opened her eyes, the emotional effort of pushing the memories back into a mental vault had exhausted her and she slumped, unladylike, in her seat. "Please."

Draco watched her worriedly, having straightened as she fought her internal battle. "Why won't you talk to me about it?" he pushed cautiously. "It's been two years."

_Because it's the one thing I'm most ashamed of,_ she thought to herself bitterly. "Because it was my first real heartbreak, okay?" It was, again, not entirely a lie, but miles from the truth.

As she'd hoped, Draco shifted uncomfortably. He knew little about her romantic life, mainly because he didn't want to know who Carina fancied. Unfortunately, Carina had worked herself into a corner, caught between two topics of conversation she'd desperately like to avoid—_that summer,_ and her flashback. Before she could think of a way to redirect the conversation, Draco spoke again.

"Did he… hurt you? Like… like that?" He wouldn't look at her, instead studying his tattoo for her reaction, and Carina crinkled her brow in confusion.

"Like… oh! No! No, it was nothing like that," she assured him quickly, flushing crimson. "I'd never even kissed him."

The relief of her statement appeared to relax the tension in his shoulders and he glanced up at her.

"Well, if anyone ever did, I'd use an Unforgivable Curse in a heartbeat," he promised. The sheer determination on the fourteen-year-old's face both endeared and unnerved her.

_He's still a kid,_ she reminded herself. _He doesn't understand the consequences of the Unforgivables yet._

Still, his devotion coaxed a smile to Carina's face. "That's why you're in Slytherin, little brother."

Draco scoffed. "Where else would I be?"

"I don't know, sometimes I think you'd make a fair Hufflepuff," she teased. "You're ever so loyal!"

That earned her a pillow hurled at her face, which she deflected easily enough with her arm, laughing. Their conversation eased into milder waters, safer topics, and after a little while Carina nearly forgot her self-assigned task of introspection.

But, as all good things must, their time ended with an exaggerated grumble from Draco's stomach. He glared, appalled, at the offending region before leaving Carina to her own thoughts in search of something to eat.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Carina turned back to her journal. It lay patiently, waiting for her to utilize the blank spaces. With a heavy sigh, she picked up her quill.

_Dear Journal,_

_I hesitate to write, though I know I must for my own sanity. I need to confront the events of the riot, and to do so, also confront my flashback. I would say I'd rather face a boggart than this, but there's no true difference. It's funny, really. Nobody would understand why mine takes the shape of a little, black book…_

* * *

Several days passed and the tension in the house eased without a whisper of the Dark Lord having returned. Less than two weeks later, Carina and Draco bade their parents goodbye on platform 9¾ and boarded the Hogwarts Express together. Less than a minute after that, they separated. Draco headed down the train with Blaise, and Carina headed to the Prefects carriage to meet their new Head Boy and Girl.

As she stepped through the door, she nodded to the other prefects and her partner, Alexander Willoughby. She liked Willoughby well enough, and enjoyed his casual conversation and easy silences when they did rounds. She knew a fair few of their classmates had started a betting pool on when they would start dating—none of them knew that Willoughby had taken her on one date last year, and she had politely turned down a second. She simply wasn't romantically interested in him.

No, certainly not Willoughby. Her eyes drifted from one person to the next, and she allowed herself a small smile when she recognized the honey-brown hair, strong jaw, easy demeanor, and yellow-and-black-striped tie. Cedric waved to her and she offered a friendly smile as she picked her way over to the seat beside Willoughby.

Not long after all the prefects had gathered, the Head Boy and Girl stood, introduced themselves, and explained the duties of a prefect to the fifth years. Patrolling assignments for the train ride were given, along with their schedule for rounds the coming term, and they were released.

As they always did, Carina and Willoughby made polite small talk with the other prefects as they filed out, then caught up with one another as they patrolled. A few minutes into their journey, Carina paused at a door filled with five or six underclassmen with the tell-tale black ties of new students. She knocked gently on the glass, then slid open the door to their compartment with a smile.

"Hello," she greeted them as Willoughby stood at her shoulder. "My name is Carina Malfoy, and this is Alexander Willoughby. We're prefects for Slytherin House. Are you settling in alright?"

A nervous pause hung in the air, then one of the girls by the window nodded. Carina noted with some interest she was one of a set of identical twins, sporting ivory skin and chestnut locks of hair.

"We're alright," she said, straightening her back the tiniest bit. A small smile curved Carina's lips at the gesture, and her eyes settled on a book lying in the other twin's lap. A heading at the top of the page told her all she needed to know.

"I see you're reading _Hogwarts: A History_," she commented lightly. "What do you think of it?"

The second twin's entire face brightened. "It's amazing!" she gushed. "I've been reading up on the four Houses, and it's fascinating which traits tend to be grouped together. Does it have something to do with learning styles?"

Carina cocked her head to one side. "You know, I hadn't thought of it that way, but it's possible. Most Hufflepuffs I know seem to learn best by reading, but Gryffindors and Ravenclaws prefer a more hands-on approach," she mused. "And most of us Slytherins tend to thrive on competition."

"That's your house, Ava," the girl with the book said, bumping her shoulder fondly against her sister's.

"I take it you have a competitive streak?" Carina ventured, and the girl straightened a little more in her seat.

"Just a bit," she admitted, quirking her lips in a smile. "I'm older by three minutes, so I have to stay ahead!"

The other students giggled at that. Carina's smile grew at the girl's tenacity—it would serve her well.

"So you have your eye on Slytherin House then?"

Ava shrugged. "Maybe, I'm not sure." She glanced up with a familiar glint in her eye. "Is it true that most Slytherins turn evil once they leave school?"

A heavy, uncomfortable silence settled on the compartment as each of the underclassmen turned their attention to Carina and Willoughby. The latter, Carina noticed, gaped like a fish as he opened and closed his mouth struggling to respond. She sighed.

"That," she began carefully, "is something of a difficult topic to navigate. I'm well aware that many of my House alumni have tainted the Slytherin name with evil acts, but I believe that's the darker side of ambition. It's one of the driving traits of many Slytherins, and a great many of them had ambitions to power. Taking shortcuts and committing unlawful acts helped them to realize their ambitions in a way that harmed others—in other words, their ambition got the better of them.

"The way I see it, people like the Dark Lord gave Slytherin a bad reputation. I'd like to think I'm not foreordained to be evil simply because I aspire to achieve greatness. Perhaps my ambitions lie in publishing a book, for example. I don't believe that's an inherently evil desire, and my drive to accomplish that goal serves me well. In Slytherin House I've learned skills to achieve my goals and focus my ambition on things that matter."

Ava and her sister considered for a few seconds before nodding their understanding.

"I wouldn't mind being in Slytherin," Ava decided. "I want to learn everything there is to know about magic, and I want to be a magizoologist one day!" Then her excited expression faded. "But I'll probably end up in Ravenclaw with you, Alya."

Carina cocked her head to one side, brow furrowed. "Why is that?"

"Well, according to the book," Alya spoke up, flicking through the pages, "muggle-borns aren't allowed in Slytherin." Alya glanced a little sadly at her sister, who frowned at the book's pages.

Carina's heart sank a little. "I… suppose you're right. Traditionally, Slytherin is comprised of pureblood or half-blood witches and wizards."

"I'm sure you'll all be excellent assets to whichever Houses you're Sorted into," Willoughby finally spoke up, offering a smile. "We certainly hope to see some of you at the Slytherin table tonight."

After answering a few more questions—most of them less awkward than the twins'—Carina and Willoughby bade the first years goodbye and continued their rounds.

"It's a shame about Ava being muggle-born," Willoughby mused. "She would have done well in Slytherin."

Carina nodded, troubled. "Even if she is Sorted into Ravenclaw, I doubt she'll be able to reach her full potential with them. They're too… distractible. They bounce from one thing to the next according to whatever catches their fire and fancy, learning whatever they can about their passions and completely forgetting their schoolwork."

Willoughby nodded his agreement. "Like I said, it's a pity. I'd have liked to see her in our House."

Carina sighed, opting to change the subject for the rest of their journey.

* * *

The remaining hours of the trip passed more or less uneventfully, though they did have to confiscate a number of joke items before they'd even reached the school. No doubt several things had slipped past them, but that would only be because the older students were cleverer about hiding their contraband.

At last the gleaming lights of Hogsmeade and the castle loomed through the darkness, and Carina and Willoughby went through the routine of directing students to either the boats or the carriages. Carina was starving by the time she finally reached the Great Hall, finding Lyra among the crowd.

"How was the trip?" the dark-haired girl asked as Carina settled next to her.

"About the same as every year."

"Of course."

Lyra hadn't missed the way Carina's eyes swept over the other students, particularly the Hufflepuffs two tables away.

"He's near the front," Lyra offered helpfully, gesturing. Carina's cheeks pinkened a little as her eyes landed on Cedric, who chatted with friends he hadn't seen all summer. She forced her eyes away, grateful when a three-legged stool and an old hat were carried to the front of the Great Hall. Chatter ceased as the dozens of first-years were led in through a side door, and all eyes fell on the newcomers.

"Oh, look," Lyra said mildly. "More twins."

Carina picked out the matching chestnut heads of hair as Ava and Alya filed in side by side. Alya, she noticed, fidgeted nervously though her eyes betrayed her curiosity as they flickered from the enchanted ceiling, floating candles, and architecture to the students, teachers, and ghosts. Ava, on the other hand, walked tall with her shoulders squared and eyes fixed on the Sorting Hat lying limply on the stool.

Carina kept her eyes on the twins as the Sorting Hat began to sing, a smile creeping across her lips at their awe. She couldn't say why exactly she was so invested in these two girls, but as the Sorting began, she grew impatient for their names.

There were probably about sixty students waiting to be Sorted, and slowly the list dwindled as names were called by the Deputy Headmistress and Houses were bellowed by the Sorting Hat.

"RAVENCLAW!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

With each new student added to a House, the entire space erupted in applause and hollering, welcoming the new students warmly—except for Slytherin's students. Their reception from the Slytherin table was more boisterous than any of the others with one goal in mind—to drown out the boos and hisses echoing from the other three houses.

Each time a student joined their ranks, Carina's heart clenched a little more. As thrilled as she was to see new faces, the confusion and hurt at their reception was painful to watch. With every new name, she cheered louder and even took to pounding the table with her peers. They needed to know they were valued, welcomed in this school despite what others thought of them.

Carina needed them to know they weren't evil.

Her throat began to ache and rasp as the pool of students dwindled. She continually turned her eyes to the twins, certain every single time they would be next beneath the hat.

As it happened, their names came right at the end. Go figure.

"Walsh, Alya!" Professor McGonagall announced, and the girl startled. Ava offered her an encouraging smile as she stumbled to the stool. The hat drooped over her head, and a beat later, the torn brim opened wide.

"RAVENCLAW!" it hollered proudly.

Both sisters beamed as Alya leaped from the stool, handed the hat to the old professor, and darted eagerly to join the uproarious Ravenclaw table. Even Carina and Willoughby cheered for her, smiling.

"Walsh, Ava!"

Ava, the last student to be Sorted, strode purposefully to the stool, casting a smile at her sister before the hat slid down over her curls.

A moment of silence. Then another. Carina could just make out a frown on Ava's face, her lips twisting uncertainly as the quiet stretched onward. Then—

"SLYTHERIN!"

Carina blinked, her jaw dropping in time with Willoughby's and Ava's as Professor McGonagall plucked the hat from her head. A moment later she joined the applause, cheering louder than most of the others as Ava walked dazedly to join them. A quick glance at Alya confirmed both unbridled excitement and forlorn sadness adorning her features. Carina wondered if they'd ever been separated before.

She looked across the table at Willoughby, who met her gaze with uncertainty and beckoned her closer.

"Isn't she muggle-born?" he asked her quietly, careful not to draw attention from those around them.

"I think so," Carina confirmed.

"Then how did she…?" he trailed off, as at a loss for words as she was.

Carina shook her head in bemusement. "I don't know. Let's just—don't say anything to anyone just yet, okay?"

He raised his eyebrows at her, but their two years of working together had built some measure of trust between them. With a reluctant nod, he settled back and turned his gaze toward the Headmaster, who had just risen to give his Start of Term speech.

Carina barely heard what he said, peering down at Ava, who sat facing the Ravenclaw table in stunned silence. A muggle-born in Slytherin was unheard of, and yet… there she was.

Worry clenched her gut just then. Slytherin culture dictated that muggle-borns weren't meant to be at this school. If their Housemates found out, Ava could be in for the worst seven years of her young life. Unbidden, a fierce protectiveness rose in Carina's breast.

No. There was enough hate towards Slytherins as it was. She wouldn't let it divide her own House—not if she had anything to say about it.

* * *

**A/N: So there were a couple of things I wanted to address with this chapter, starting with a bit of background for Carina's characterization. Being raised a Malfoy, most would expect her to be pretty much a female Draco, but there are experiences and elements that occur previous to the events of this story to explain some of the un-Malfoy-ish tendencies she shows in this and the previous chapters. This will be expounded more upon in future chapters.**

**Next, let's discuss the attitude towards Slytherin House that we have seen throughout the books. There's a tumblr post that I can't track down now, but it talks about how the treatment of Slytherins during their years at Hogwarts probably contributed to their bad reputations. It discussed how from the get-go, these kids are booed and hissed and told they're evil monsters, and so they become what they're told they must be. **

**I wanted to highlight this concept and the ramifications that come with treatment like this, which will also be addressed further in future chapters.**

**As always, I would love to hear your thoughts on the story so far! Thank you for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Of all the possibilities the twins had discussed in the days leading up to September first, this had not been one of them. An odd combination of elation and guilt whirled through Ava as she sat with the other students, turning her Sorting over and over in her mind.

_Ava would never tell Alya how she had taken slightly heavier steps to quell the shaking in her legs as she walked to the stool. She met Alya's eager gaze for a split second before the hat dropped over her eyes, shrouding her in darkness._

"_Ah, a second one," _a voice mused in her ear. Ava bit her lip to keep from flinching.

_I was first, actually,_ she thought to herself, and very nearly fell over when the voice chuckled.

"_Ambitious and competitive, I see,"_ it answered. _"I see a healthy amount of determination and loyalty too, all very Slytherin traits, however…"_

_I'm muggle-born,_ Ava supplied a little bitterly.

"_Yes, that is the unfortunate stumbling block. Of course, it would be a great injustice to place you in a House where you do not belong. You might do well enough in Ravenclaw, but in Slytherin you would thrive. I see it here in your head, the drive necessary to persevere despite challenges that might arise—and persecution _will_ arise, Miss Walsh, with your heritage—but I can see your ambition outweighing your fear. Your choice is clear to me. The Houses were meant to be united… This one may be the key…"_

Ava frowned at the hat's last comment, which appeared to be said more to itself than to her. Key? The key to what?

Before she could formulate her thoughts enough to ask what it meant, the hat bellowed "SLYTHERIN!"

Ava traded stunned looks with Alya across the tables again. Her sister's book had been very clear—Slytherin students were always half-blood or more, never muggle-born like them. They'd discussed the possibility of being separated, of course, but as they'd told the Slytherin Prefects on the train, they'd expected to be in Ravenclaw together. All of their plans and dreams for this bold, new world centered on being together. Sharing a dorm, classes, study time… They didn't know quite what to expect from their curriculum, but they'd taken solace in finding out side by side.

And yet… she'd leapt at the chance to be in Slytherin. _Your choice is clear,_ the hat had said, and Ava had snatched it with both hands with only a brief passing thought about Alya. It wasn't that she didn't love her sister, who had been her closest friend and confidant since they were small. But she also relished the thought of being distinguishable from Alya for perhaps the first time outside of their family.

Ava didn't regret her choice and she didn't regret not being with Alya either.

An ugly feeling gnawed at her until Ava broke her sister's gaze under the pretense of listening to a conversation with the people around her.

Was it wrong of her to want to be more individual? Would Alya feel betrayed if she knew?

She half-listened as the Headmaster issued start-of-year notices and rules. He introduced the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Alastor Moody, who reminded Ava of some sort of old, weathered pirate captain. He was certainly intimidating enough with that odd-looking eye, gnarled hands, stilted walk, and clunky staff.

Abruptly the table in front of her filled with glorious platters of food and Ava's stomach grumbled approvingly, though her awe was still somewhat dampened by her shame at having left her sister without a second thought.

She glanced up instinctively and caught Alya's eye. Her twin was positively beaming, and Ava returned the grin effortlessly.

_Amazing!_ Alya mouthed at her, then set to loading her plate with all of her favorites.

Ava's smile dropped even as she loaded her own plate. Would her sister smile that big knowing Ava had willingly left her for a place in Slytherin?

Dinner passed more quickly than Ava expected, and soon enough the remains of their excellent meal were whisked away. Announcements were made, including that of the Triwizard Tournament and guests from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons who would be arriving in about two months' time.

Ava furrowed her brow as she listened, vaguely recognizing the names of the other two schools from Alya's rambling research. According to the excited gasps and chatter from the other students, the tournament was a big deal. She thought Alya might have mentioned something about it, but she'd have to ask about it later. Once the announcements had been made and Professor Dumbledore dismissed them to their dorms, the students rose and thronged to the doors. Ava only caught a brief glimpse of Alya waving at her from one of the staircases before she was led downward towards the dungeons with the other Slytherins.

Currently Ava found herself trailing behind the others, lost in her own thoughts as her new Housemates chattered away ahead of her. She was in the throes of her debate over telling Alya about the conversation with the Sorting Hat when she sensed a presence beside her. She peered out of the corner of her eye at the tall, blonde prefect who had visited their compartment earlier. The girl's face was utterly impassable.

"So," she began, keeping her voice utterly neutral. What had her name been again? "You made it into Slytherin House after all. Congratulations." The prefect offered her a fleeting smile.

"Yeah, I suppose so."

The girl, Carina, rested a hand lightly on her shoulder, slowing their pace as a gap grew between them and the other students. Ava stiffened as the prefect nudged her off to one side as they walked.

"Did I do something wrong?" Ava asked, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice.

Carina shook her head. "No, not at all. I wanted to speak to you about your Sorting before we meet the rest of our House."

A creeping sense of foreboding curdled Ava's stomach. "This is about me being muggle-born, isn't it?"

Carina studied her for a moment, lips pursed, then nodded. "Yes."

"Because I'm not supposed to be here?" Ava challenged.

The older girl cocked her head to one side, a sheet of blonde hair falling over one shoulder. "Not according to tradition. Is there any way one of your parents might have been a Squib?"

"A what?"

"Someone who was born into a magical family with no magic of their own," Carina explained.

Ava shook her head. "No. It took Professor McGonagall transforming into a cat and back again to convince them of magic when she first brought us our letters."

Carina frowned slightly, opening her mouth as though she wanted to say more, then appeared to think better of it. "Right. Listen, there are a few things you need to understand, Miss Walsh," she said, her tone more serious than Ava would have liked. "Muggle-borns are never sorted into Slytherin House. Ever. I'm sure in your reading you've discovered that in Slytherin House, blood purity matters a great deal, and once people find out about your lineage, you will be treated differently."

The Sorting Hat's words abruptly echoed through Ava's head. _Persecution will arise._

"You think they'll try to hurt me?"

Carina shook her head. "They won't attack you outright, but it won't be easy for you either. There will be rumors, especially about your parents…" She trailed off, raising an eyebrow in question, and Ava bristled.

"My parents have always been faithful," she insisted coolly. "It shouldn't matter if they're muggles anyway."

Carina sighed. "To most of the school, it doesn't. But you're in Slytherin now, and to them it will. If they don't outright shun you, they'll come up with any explanation to make it make sense, no matter how outlandish. You need to be prepared for that."

Ava shifted uncomfortably. "What about my sister? Will they talk about her too?"

Carina pressed her lips into a grim line. "Most likely."

Ava's stomach churned. "How do I protect her?"

At first Carina didn't respond, and Ava wondered if it meant there _was_ no way to protect Alya from the backlash. Carina pulled Ava to a halt before a blank stretch of wall, resting her hands on Ava's shoulders.

"Listen, eventually they will all find out that you're muggle-born," Carina told her in a low undertone. "But for now, don't tell anybody."

Ava opened her mouth to argue, insulted that she was being told to hide her true lineage, but Carina pressed on.

"Let them get to know you for you first, to care about you before blood," she explained softly. Without another word, she turned to a blank expanse of wall beside them, cleared her throat, and announced, "Balderdash."

Ava's response died in her throat as the bricks unfolded themselves to reveal a passageway. Although she remembered Alya reading to her about the Slytherin common room being in the bowels of the castle, she hadn't given it much thought until now, when it flipped her expectation on its head.

On one wall, an ornate fireplace blazed with heat, surrounded by well-worn, comfortable-looking chairs and couches. Bookshelves stood resolutely to either side, separated from the fireplace by a barrier of stone and displaying a number of mismatched volumes which Ava imagined Alya's fingers would be itching to delve into. Across the room were a number of small tables, presumably for studying and down time, flanked by two staircases leading even further downward.

Ava's brow knitted when she noted the absence of chairs in the study area as students milled about. A moment later she realized the older students were dragging the chairs closer to the fire, situating them in a large half circle behind the cushy chairs and couches already there.

She made these rather mundane observations within a few seconds of entering. Her breath, however, caught on the furthest wall, which really wasn't a wall at all. It was a massive, slightly concave window displaying the depths of the Black Lake, and with how close they still must be to the surface, Ava estimated a fair amount of sunlight would still reach them in the daytime. Enough light, she hoped, to investigate what she saw now.

On the other side of the glass, eerie forms moved about, carrying strangely glowing orbs in webbed, gray-skinned hands. The orbs illuminated their weedy, green hair drifting lazily about their faces and yellow eyes peering with great interest at the students. Silver-scaled tails glinted in the flickering light as they flicked lazily this way and that. The smallest form, easily five and a half feet tall and boasting a string of pebbles tied around its neck, met Ava's gaze, cocking its head to one side and grinning with broken, yellowed teeth.

"Are those mermaids?" Ava blurted at Carina as she closed the passage behind them.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Selkies of the Black Lake," the other girl answered somewhat distractedly. "You'll learn more about them in a bit. Come on, orientation starts soon."

Ava finally tore her gaze away from the selkie—it couldn't possibly be fully grown yet, she decided—and allowed herself to be led to the front row of seats, where other first years had taken up residence on the couches. Many of them, like her, were watching the selkies with just as much interest as the creatures themselves exhibited.

Ava didn't bother to initiate any conversations just then, as she was still rattled by her conversation with Carina. Her eyes flicked to the older girl, who appeared to be in a somewhat heated discussion with her fellow Prefect. The boy gestured behind him and Ava's stomach sank as Carina cast a cursory glance at her for a split second before returning her attention to her partner. It wasn't hard to imagine exactly what they were arguing about.

The debate ended when Carina lay a hand on his arm, leaning forward to whisper fervently to Willoughby. The boy's shoulders tensed for a long moment before slouching slightly in defeat. He nodded, then the two of them placed themselves at the front of the room, near the fireplace.

"Right then," Willoughby announced, clapping his hands together to get his Housemates' attention. It took a moment or two, but they quieted and turned their attention to him. "Welcome back, ladies and gents. The Headmaster's already gone over the bulk of the rules, so I'll just go over a few things in the castle you first years ought to be aware of, then Carina will take over."

He spent the next few minutes explaining their common room, where the dorms were located, and where the bathrooms were found. He went on to talk about how to locate the entrance to the common room by searching for the small snake carving on the brick beside one of the torch mounts, and how often the password changed. He went into the various trick doorways, moving staircases, hidden passages, and the castle's ever-changing floorplan, issuing warnings for certain corridors that Ava hoped she would remember come morning. She almost wondered if she ought to be taking notes.

"You'll be getting your timetables at breakfast first thing Monday morning from Professor Snape," Willoughby finished. "He's our Head of House and the Potions Master. He's not got the best temper, so it's best to stay in his good graces."

He nodded to Carina, who stepped in.

"Just use your common sense and you'll get along just fine with the castle and Professor Snape," she summarized.

Ava cocked her head, trying not to appear too bewildered or astonished next to her classmates. Most of them nodded as though it were completely normal to live in a castle whose floorplan changed on a whim and was adorned with tricks and traps. Then again, she realized, for the purebloods, it probably was.

"Getting along with the other Houses," Carina continued more carefully, "is a little trickier." Her tone had shifted, taking on a note of solemnity as she drank in the sight of her Housemates. Behind Ava, much of the upperclassmen's fidgeting quieted.

"When you first arrived in the castle, you were told that your House would be like your family. Nowhere is that truer than here in Slytherin House," she said, a proud smile ghosting across her lips before it fell. "I'm sure you noticed the reactions of the others to your Sorting this evening. Every one of us in this room has gone through the exact same thing." For a moment, her eyes glazed over, and Ava wondered if the older girl was remembering her own Sorting. Then she blinked and her face cleared.

"I'll be frank with you. Slytherin House is not well-loved, and it is helped little by the reputations of Dark Wizards who came before us. Many students hold us in low regard and are not shy in showing it." Her face darkened and the palpable tension in the room abruptly tightened Ava's muscles. She held her breath as a collective murmur of disdain rippled through the room.

Then Carina released a long, slow breath and reached out to clasp the hand of a girl she'd sat with at dinner. She offered her House a reassuring smile, turning her gaze to each of the first years. Her gaze lingered a moment longer on Ava as she spoke. As quickly as it had risen, the tension in the room dissipated.

"But here," she said, "you are safe. We're a family here, and tonight we'd like to begin teaching you a tradition handed down through generations of Slytherins."

Chairs creaked as the students behind Ava straightened in their seats and the girls on either side of Ava leaned forward in anticipation. Ava's brow knitted as, instead of continuing her speech, Carina crossed to the wide, concave window. The selkies on the other side shifted closer to the glass, a few of them grinning and suspending their glowing orbs in the water. Carina moved her hands rapidly in front of her for a moment, and the selkie responded in kind. The girl turned back to them, grinning.

"They added this glass wall and a glass chamber further down more than two hundred years ago," she said. "At first, the selkies and other residents of the Black Lake didn't take kindly to the developments or the students on the other side. Back in the 1890s, a girl named Elsbeth Lynch was Sorted into Slytherin. She'd been rendered deaf by a magical accident during childhood, and so learned sign language to communicate with others. She was fascinated by the lake and its inhabitants, and so over the course of her education, she taught not only her Housemates to sign, but the selkies as well. Sign language has been passed down in Slytherin House ever since so we can communicate with them.

"The first sign you learn as a Slytherin is the sign for family." She extended the first two fingers on each hand, making small clockwise circles in front of her body. She invited the first years to mimic her, and Ava tried to set aside her awkwardness as Carina and the other upperclassmen demonstrated. As she moved her hands like theirs, a strange warmth bloomed in her chest. Looking up, she found the other first years glancing at one another with side eyes and the upperclassmen beaming at them.

"What you're feeling right now is a subtle form of magic," Carina announced quietly. "It's not nearly as strong as the magic you'll be learning or performing with your wands, but it serves to develop a sense of trust and camaraderie between you and the rest of your Housemates."

A low, astonished murmur passed through the first years, and Ava looked down at her hands. Was this signing magic strong enough to overcome prejudices against muggle-borns? The worry gnawed at her even as Carina continued her speech.

"Monday morning your education begins. While you're here, your job is to learn and to stand together. Show the rest of this school what we can do. Show them that we're not evil. Show them we're so much more than what they choose to see. Protect one another and work hard."

She hesitated, looking as though she wanted to add something else. Did her eyes flick to Ava, or was it just her paranoid imagination?

"Since we've got a few days before classes begin, we'll set aside a bit of time before lunch each day to teach you the basics of sign language," she said. "If you have questions, any of the upperclassmen can help you. If you put your mind to it and practice consistently, you'll find it to be a particularly useful tool to have at your disposal. Once you've got basic conversation down, you'll be able to communicate with the selkies of the Black Lake."

She signed something to the selkie on the other side, who nodded and clasped one hand in front of the other, making small up and down movements in front of her. It almost looked like she was shaking hands with herself.

"This is the sign for friend," Carina explained, demonstrating the movements for the first years. Then she motioned to the corner adjacent to the fireplace, which gave way to a third staircase Ava hadn't noticed when she walked in. "This staircase leads to a separate chamber which allows us to more fully view the lake. Feel free to explore it more in your free time and get to know the selkies."

"That said, do not trust any of their dating advice," Willoughby cut in with a wry smile. "The school doesn't condone the drowning of boring or troublesome dates."

Carina rolled her eyes at him, then glanced down at a fine, silver watch on her wrist. "It's getting late. I'm sure you'd all like some time to settle in. A few of us will meet you first years here at eleven tomorrow morning to go over the basic signs before lunch. Welcome to Hogwarts, Slytherins," she concluded. Ava couldn't help but notice that the smile she offered them, while fond, was also somehow distant.

* * *

**A/N: Whew, it's been too long since I updated! First things first, I dearly hope all of you readers have stayed sane and safe during this pandemic and the other unprecedented craziness 2020 has hit us with.**

**I had intended to post this chapter back in March, but I hadn't quite completed it by the time the pandemic hit. To make a long story short, I was considered an essential worker and permitted to continue working at the public library during quarantine. Our main building was shut down, so we spent the majority of our time working on projects we can't normally do while open to the public and providing a curbside service for our patrons. I was also pregnant with my second child at the time, and it's only been during my maternity leave that I've found any time to work on this story again. I've lamented leaving my readers hanging for so long and beg your forgiveness. Truly, these times are unprecedented for all of us.**

**Now, credit for a few of the ideas presented in this story goes to the following tumblr users: **_**queerandgrumpy**_** for the idea of a wall and a room like an aquarium; **_**brosequartz**_** for the idea of a deaf student teaching Slytherin house and the mermaids sign language; and **_**sashaforthewin**_** for the terrible mermaid advice. I adored the conversation they had about mermaids and sign language, so I wanted to give voice to their ideas in a story (even though I'm sure someone else has already done so).**

**Lastly, thank you so much for reading this far and for coming back even after such a long lapse between chapters. I can't wait to hear your feedback for this piece, and I hope to get back onto a regular monthly schedule. Thank you, and stay safe!**


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